The Count's World: Weapons and Redemption
by The Great Allie
Summary: After taking a guest into his castle, Count Bleck must fight a scheme to bring Smithy's dream of filling the world with weapons to life. While trying to find hope for his wife and his future, the castle spirals deeper into despair. Hilarity also happens
1. UndereThere

_Here it comes- a full-length edition of The Count's World. Where do Dimentio's loyalties lie? Will Count Bleck be able to redeem himself? Is Timpani forced to remain a pixl forever? Where are the Pure Hearts? And can a talking, dimension-hopping plant star in two fanfics at once without burning out?_

_Rated T, because I'm going to be a little looser with this one than the other ones. Someone probably dies, some people say some words… it's all good._

* * *

A cold wind blew through the Underwhere. The Shaydes didn't notice it. At one point or another, all of them had, but no more. They had been here for eternity, and they would remain there for eternity. Time and feelings had no meaning once you got to the Underwhere. And nobody cared about the wind.

Then, in the midst of the plaza, appeared Count Bleck. He was tall and confident today, as always, his clothes neat and pressed, carrying his cane upright and adjusting his monocle over his eye. He grinned grimly as he looked around at the mossy ground and skeletal trees that made up much of the landscape. The hills were not exactly rolling here, but the land was far from flat. He certainly didn't look out of place here- in fact, he looked like he was made to belong here.

"Nice place you've got here," said Count Bleck to no one in particular.

A nearby shade laughed at the irony. "Ha, you're funny. First time here in the Underwhere?"

"Actually, I've been here before," said Count Bleck.

The Shayde was caught off guard, but then he laughed again. "Oh, yeah! That's also funny! Like anybody ever comes here more than once. Once you're game's over, it's over."

"Actually, my game isn't over," said Count Bleck.

"Yeah, I heard that one before. Ha ha ha ha… denial. Or are you just being funny again? You remind me of me when I came here. But hey, if you need to hear it from Queen Jaydes herself, she's in the palace up the road. Don't expect to get there anytime soon, she's booked for the millennium."

"I know," said Count Bleck. "I have an appointment with her."

"Ha ha ha! Got on her _calender_? Nice one. No way, man."

"Really. We know each other."

"Ha ha ha! You're still funny!"

"I'm being serious."

"Look," and suddenly the Shayde wasn't jolly anymore, but cold and irritated. "Stop making me feel miserable, okay? Just go and let me believe we're not as pathetic as we really are."

"All right. Sorry to disturb you."

* * *

"Good to see you, Blumiere," said Queen Jaydes. "No, I said to put that over _there_—sorry, we're a bit swamped today."

No less than seven D-Men were swarming around Jaydes in her palace in the Underwhere, taking care of this and that and everything else in the world. Jaydes was barking at them, talking on her cell phone, and in between tried to talk to Count Bleck. He took a seat near her and waited for a spare moment. He was not pressed for time in the least.

"Look, Grams, I don't care _what_ the other Nimbis are wearing, I do _not_ want Luvbi to show up to—who's she going with, anyway? Hang on a sec, Grams. You! D-Man! Where are those papers on my pedigree Underchomp? I need them _today_!"

"Queen Jaydes, a message from Dorguy the First," said a D-Man, approaching her with a memo. "He's still holding out for more vacation days."

Jaydes snatched the memo from him and looked at it. "Great. Good. Fine. Granted. Get this mess out of here, and tell him he's got it. I'm too busy to deal with this right now."

She shook her head. "I swear, they all kick the bucket on Monday. Nobody wants their game to end on the weekend."

"Might I suggest a book in time management?" asked Count Bleck for a laugh.

Jaydes laughed bitterly. "Yeah, and when would I read it? That's the thing about this place, Blumiere, nobody's exempt from it. We're all in Hell."

"Well, I admire you for your work."

"Thanks for that, really." She turned to the D-Men. "All right, I need _five minutes_ for this meeting. Can you do that for me? Go five minutes without bothering me?"

"Jaydes, you're going to be late for your—" a D-Man came up to her with an appointment book.

"I'm always late for everything," Jaydes interrupted. "It's how things roll down here. We're so far behind we haven't even turned the century yet. I'm having a meeting now, so don't interrupt me unless a void opens in the sky or Grams lets Luvbi buy that skirt. Got it?"

"Yes, Queen Jaydes!" came the chorus from the D-Men.

"Great."

She gestured for Count Bleck to follow her into a back room in her palace, a small macabre office-type setting. She closed the door behind him and slid down into a chair. "Ohh, my feet," she groaned. "I haven't gotten to sit down in a week."

"If you like, we could just relax here and _say_ you had the meeting," suggested Count Bleck.

"No, no, a break this short would only make it harder to go back to work." She straightened up. "I can't wait for the Apocalypse," she added. "But who knows _when_ that'll be? So, what did you want to ask me about?"

"Pure Hearts," said Count Bleck. "For Timpani. Tell me everything you know."

"Oh, that." Jaydes paused. "Why are you asking _me_ about them?"

"You know about them, yes?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then just indulge me, please."

Jaydes shrugged. "Have it your way. It's very simple, actually. The Pure Hearts are bouncing around right now like… a Fuzzy in a coffee factory. With their original purpose fulfilled, they have nowhere to go, but are unable to fade away. If they pass strong feelings of love, they attach a part of themselves there. Like on Sherwood and Gary. A part of the Pure Hearts is living with them and protecting them. The actual Pure Hearts are all over the place."

"Do you know how I can harness them?"

"Express a lot of love," said Jaydes. "That, and pure dumb luck. Luck that one will pass you by during that expression. Honestly, it may never happen if things stay the way they are."

"That's actually a relief," said Count Bleck. "I thought to come here because I was afraid they might have dried up."

"Can't happen," said Jaydes. "Well, okay, it _can_ happen, it has. But it's not permanent. Tell you what- if you find a dried out Pure Heart, come and get me, I'll fix it up for you. Can't your wife still detect them?"

"Yes, but she's not a divining rod. I can't just turn her out and she'll be able to find a Pure Heart."

"No, I suppose not."

Jaydes shifted in her seat. There was a silence, where each one was waiting for the other to say something.

Jaydes broke it first. "So, why me?" she asked casually. Curious, yes, but hardly deathly curious. "I mean, I know about these things, given my position and history and all… but why come all the way down here and jump through all those hoops to get a meeting with me when Merlon is just a stones throw from your dimension, not to mention other scholars easier to get to. Russ T., Beanbean University, Professor Frankly, who could have all told you what I just told you, if they did enough research and experimenting."

"I had something else I wanted to ask you."

Jaydes raised an eyebrow. She'd worked in the Underwhere long enough to know what was coming next. She let him ask it- it was the zillionth time she'd answered the question, but it was the first time he'd asked it.

"Will I be able to… redeem myself when my game ends?"

Jaydes shook her head. "Sorry, Blumiere, I can't tell you that. Not as long as you're still playing your game. It's strictly confidential."

Count Bleck shrugged. "All right," he said. "It was worth a shot." He spoke so casually, Jaydes had to look at him to see how crushed he was.

"Can I ask you something?" asked Jaydes.

"It's only fair," replied Count Bleck bitterly.

"You still go by Count Bleck, don't you?"

He paused. "Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because it would be too easy _not_ to," replied Count Bleck. "It would be easy to say that Count Bleck pushed Blumiere away and took over, and now Blumiere's back… but life isn't that tidy. To change my name back would be to try and erase what I did, rather than deal with it and truly show I've changed. I did what I did and now I must live with it."

Jaydes nodded. "To you, does that sound like a sign of hope or a futile gesture?"

Count Bleck shrugged.

"Sleep on it," she said. "I'm not a therapist, but I want you to take that suggestion anyway."

"Perhaps later," said Count Bleck, standing up. "I have to go check on my minions now. I sent them on a mission, and something should be going comically wrong right about now."

"Great," said Jaydes. "It's back to work for me, then." She stood up, and groaned inwardly as she did. "I'm getting too old for this."

"You don't get old," said Count Bleck.

"That's the one thing I'd have going for me," she replied with tart humor. "Except I've been off the dating scene for twelve thousand years. Give or take."

"Well, I'll see you later."

"Sooner than you'd like, though," replied Jaydes with a smile.


	2. Beware the Forest Mushrooms

_This is NOT the end. This is just something bigger and more fun. More short stories will resume upon its completion. It's like, when Disneyland opened, Walt didn't cancel his television show. In fact, it became more awesome than ever!_

_Also, I'm just throwin' it out there, not that I'm thinking of doing it but the thought did amuse me… but what do you think of a Dimentio-Mimi pairing? Okay, okay, I'm done. I'm handing out brain bleach if you want it. Here it is: Chapter 2_

* * *

MEANWHILE, THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY…

In the Forest Maze, O'Chunks, Mimi, and Dimentio were on an important mission. It wasn't an exciting mission, not the kind of mission that the fate of the free world depended on or one with lots of glamour and excitement. It was, however, from Count Bleck himself, and anything from the Count was of the utmost importance to his minions. Even if it was something as small and trivial as picking mushrooms. Which it was.

In his defense, they weren't just ordinary mushrooms. Well, yes, actually, they were just ordinary mushrooms, but none of the mushrooms in the Marioverse are ordinary by our standards. And besides, if you picked the wrong mushroom, it might turn out to be an Amanita, and they do _not_ like to be picked. Amanitas have fists, and they use them to express their displeasure at being approached. So it was dangerous, too. It wasn't a _total_ waste of a mission.

So far, each of them had filled up most of a very large baskets worth. O'Chunks would have had considerably more, but he kept stopping to eat them.

"Oh, I hate this!" Mimi whined as she knelt down by another patch and began picking some red-spotted fungi. "I'm getting dirt all over my new dress."

"I've seen that one before," said Dimentio. "It's not new."

"No, this is This Years dress. It's a slight variation of Last Years," explained Mimi. "See, the last one had two pockets on either side for symmetry, and this one has only one, jauntily askew, for style. Also, the lace is different."

"Please don't say 'jauntily askew', my dear Mimi."

"Sorry." She turned to O'Chunks. "And if you didn't keep eatin' them, we'd be done by now!" She pointed at him accusingly.

"Ah, what're yeh blatherin' on about, lass?" O'Chunks barked, spewing mushroom crumbs all over. "A great warrior the likes o' me 'as teh keep up 'is strength. 'E can't afford teh be riskin' getting' all wibbly-wobbly when 'e's on a mission!"

"O'Chunks, I simply cannot understand a word you are saying," Dimentio told him. "You've been in our country for a very long time, I'm surprised your accent 'asn't diminished a wee bit."

"Mebby yeh'r just pickin' it up instead," O'Chunks teased.

Dimentio clapped his hands over his mouth. "How embarrassing," he mumbled. Then, with his usual flair and confidence, "It matters not. You may continue speaking your tragically garbled English, and I will work doubly hard to keep my speaking full of it's usual eloquence and panache." He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

Mimi clapped her hands a few times in their faces. "Hey! Guys! This is all time we could be using to finish picking these mushrooms and getting' the heck outta here!"

Dimentio grabbed a fistful of mushrooms, squashing a few of the outer ones, and tossed them into his basket. He didn't like to let the others see him get mad, but sometimes he got sick of the part he was playing. The servant, the jester, the loyal minion trying hard to cover up his past sins. It was driving him crazy. _They_ were driving him crazy. He was tired of pretending to be the good guy. If only he knew how to be the bad guy…

He picked a few more red mushrooms, and saw a green one under the bush. He plucked that one, too, and placed it carefully in the basket. Green ones always come in handy. He brushed his hands off over the basket and proclaimed, "Finished."

"Good," said Mimi. "Hey, that basket's not full."

"It's full enough," said Dimentio.

"That's not full enough. If it isn't totally full, the Count's gonna be awful mad at you. And then he's gonna send us all back out again!"

"Ah, is 'e still on that teambuldin' hooey?" O'Chunks asked, ripping up a chunk of earth and sifting it through his fingers. He yielded five mushrooms as he sifted and spoke, "We're workin' like a well-oiled bagpipe an' all he says is, More, more, keep workin' together."

In her best Count Bleck voice, Mimi transformed into him and said, "Now, minions, we can accomplish together much more than we could ever hope to accomplish separately. Everything we do must matter, so says Count Bleck!"

She turned back into herself, giggling. "Silly Count," she laughed. "If he thinks I'm gonna ever work well with Dimentio, he's crazy."

"For once I agree with you," said Dimentio. "The day I work well with you will be the same day Cheep Cheeps grow legs, walk on land, and perform a Toadway rendition of 'My Fair Spiny.'"

"Ooh, that would be so totally cool, though, if it did happen," Mimi said with a delighted twinkle in her eye.

"Absolutely hopeless," Dimentio sighed and shook his head.

Suddenly, something landed next to him, hitting the ground with a small impact noise and splattering dirt all over. The minions scattered.

"We're under attack!" shrieked Mimi.

"What in all the worlds was _that_?" Dimentio asked, trying to catch his breath. They'd all come to rest behind a bush.

"Some kinda challenge sailin' through the air!" O'Chunks raised his fists. "I'm ready fer it!"

"O'Chunks, not everything is a challenge," Mimi told him.

"Not if yeh'r a _real man,_ it is!"

"…What?!"

Dimentio crept across the ground and approached the mystery item. He picked it up and showed it to them. "A blunt-tipped arrow," he said. "Somebody is doing target practice out in the middle of the forest, presumably where no poor fool can be injured by his failed attempts. It would be best for us to move along now."

"Yeah," said Mimi. "Yeah, that'd be smart. Our baskets are full enough, right?"

"That's not f—"

"Full enough, I know what I said, Dimentio. I changed my mind." She went over to her basket, which she had knocked over in her escape, and began scooping the mushrooms back into it. Another arrow came sailing through the air and landed a few meters away from where they were picking.

O'Chunks put the lid on his basket and slung it over his back. "Right," he said, "Lemme piggy-back on one o' you, I can't get back all the way to Castle Bleck by meself very quickly." Unable to warp like the others, O'Chunks had to resort to cruder methods of getting around.

"Okey-dokey, O'Chunkie," said Mimi with a giggle. "Let me just grab your arm and we'll go."

She picked up her basket and walked to O'Chunks. When she was halfway there, another arrow came sailing out of the sky and landed right on her head. She stopped where she was and dropped the basket. Mushrooms spilled all over the floor. The stuck to the back of her head, directly between her pigtails.

"Mimi!" the other two cried, one out of concern and the other out of sheer surprise.

O'Chunks rushed over to her, and Dimentio followed right behind him. "Are yeh all right? Did it getchya bad?"

"No, I'm okay," said Mimi. "But I feel kinda funny…"

"Let's get yeh back to Castle Bleck. The Count'll know what ta do." He looked at Dimentio. "Can yeh bring me with yeh?"

"I suppose," said Dimentio.

"Wait, I know what's wrong!" Mimi shrieked suddenly. "I can't move! I can't move a muscle! I can't move an inch! I'm can't even wiggle my adorable little nose!"

"Not at all?" asked O'Chunks.

"No! Fix it! Make me better!"

"I- I don't know—"

"Pick her up," instructed Dimentio. "Pick her up and take her back to the castle. Don't loose your head, little that there is to find again."

"Arret!" a voice shouted from in the forest.

The other two froze and looked. Dimentio tucked himself behind O'Chunks, who looked ready for anything.

"Arret! Arret!" it shouted, and then a strange creature emerged from the forest. It was not one like they had seen before. The creature was a lot like a small houseplant, only with two big eyes and a crocodile snout on a clearly-defined head. It had a stem that ended in six roots, which it used as legs, and big, bushy leaves tied back into a ponytail. It had two red bands on his neck just above its legs and two large leafy vines it was moving like arms.

He crawled up to them and, waving his arms, began speaking quickly in a foreign language that none of them recognized.

O'Chunks and Dimentio explained puzzled looks.

"Parlez-vous Francais?" the creature asked. It's voice was distinctly male.

He got no response.

"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

Again, nothing.

"Hablas espanol?"

O'Chunks shrugged.

"Nihongo o hanashimasu ka?" The creature looked from one to the other, desperately.

Dimentio shook his head.

"Nǐ huì shuō Zhōngwén ma?"

O'Chunks picked up Mimi and began to back up.

"Do you speak English?" the creature asked, one last-ditch effort to communicate.

"I understood that one!" Mimi cried out happily.

"Yes, Mimi, we all did," said Dimentio.

"Oh, thank the trees," sighed the creature. "I was running out of languages. My name's Nawrocki, and I've been in this forest for a while. I saw the arrows flying, and I knew that there were people here, and… well, to make a long story short, I can help your friend."

"Thank you all the same," said Dimentio, "but we'd best get back to our home."

"Come on," Nawrocki urged. "I can make a potion that will have her fixed up in two shakes. In fact, I probably still have some left over…" He reached under his arm behind him, and pulled out a flask.

"Where were you—" Dimentio started, but O'Chunks interrupted, "Where'r them arrows comin' from, anyway?"

"Hssht-ssht-ssht!" Nawrocki held up one 'finger' as he uncorked the flask and wafted the smell to his nose. "Still good," he said. "Two drops under each eye should do the trick." He dipped one of his vines into the flask and held it out over Mimi's head, which O'Chunks reluctantly lowered.

"Ahh!" Mimi shrieked when the drop hit her cheeks. "That's ice cold!"

"Please be silent," said Nawrocki.

"Sorry. You have to concentrate, donchya?"

"No, I just don't like your voice."

Mimi snorted.

"All done," said Nawrocki lightly. "Try and move."

Mimi tilted her head to the left, then the right. Then she stretched out her arms and jumped to the ground. "Hurray!" she cried happily. "Crisis averted!" She grabbed Nawrocki in a big hug. "Thank you, thank you! You're so great!"

"I know."

She let go of him. "How can I ever thank you enough?

"Perhaps we should bring him back to the castle," said Dimentio, "so that the Count may thank him."


	3. Potion Man

_Narwrocki is an OC. I designed him to work in any story so I could always pull him out when I needed someone to… fill this particular role, I guess, is the only way I can put it without spoilers. I'll explain more once we learn more about him._

* * *

Excerpt from the Beige Prognosticus:

_Trust is a funny thing. The only way you know for certain whether to give it to someone is revealed after you've already given it. Trust should be extended cautiously, but by no means should you be stingy with it..._

_Life is full of regrets, and those will include misplaced trust. Never loose heart; for every time you extend a hand of trust, there is a chance that he who wouldn't deserve it suddenly decides he does. _

* * *

"Report, minions," said Count Bleck, standing on his pedestal in the meeting room. "How were your missions?"

"I finished filing all of the damage reports we received from Flower Fields," said Nastasia. "All of the restraining orders are valid for another 73 days."

"I fixed Brobots fan belt so he won't overheat," said Mr. L. He was wearing a mechanic's smock over his overalls and covered head to toe in grease.

"We found a whole bunch of mushrooms," said Mimi, "but on our way in Charlotte ate some of them."

"She is now more powerful than ever before," said Dimentio darkly.

"But the rest are in the kitchen!" Mimi finished proudly.

Count Bleck turned to Nastasia with a pleading look.

"It's no use," she said. "I called Bowser and he said if we tried to bring her back he'd throw us in the lava moat."

Count Bleck sighed.

"So," said Tippi. "Now that business is out of the way, can you ask about… well, that… well, you know."

"Oh, yes," said Count Bleck, "you mean that hideous pile of foliage sitting on Dimentio's pedistal."

"Yo," said Nawrocki with a slight wave.

"Yes, I see you. I assumed I didn't want to hear the answer."

"He totally saved my life!" Mimi squealed. "I totally would have been left to rot in the woods if he hadn't saved me!"

"That ain't what happened, yeh ungrateful—" O'Chunks started.

Count Bleck raised his hands and the minions silenced. "I'm not in the mood for this today," he said sternly.

"If I may explain," said Nawrocki. "Mimi was hit by a paralyzing arrow in the Forest Maze. I was doing some work in the forest, and when I realized that there were non-locals there I checked on them. And then I saw one of them had been injured, so I gave her a potion. It wasn't very serious."

"Oh, I disagree," said Dimentio in his voice that's so cheerful it's actually creepy. "What you did certainly deserves the attention of Count Bleck. Doesn't it, oh Count?"

"A potion, you say?" Count Bleck said thoughtfully. "Interesting. You are a Potion Mixer, then?"

"Yes," said Nawrocki. "There are many things in the Forest Maze that can't be found easily in any other part of the world. I make and sell many kinds."

"Yes," Dimentio added. "I thought you, of _all_ people, Count, would—"

"I know your intentions, Dimentio," said Count Bleck darkly. "And I do not appreciate them."

"Honestly, I'm just here for yuks," said Nawrocki with a shrug. "I don't know what's going on with you people."

"I apologize, Good Plant," said Count Bleck. "The reasons are very complicated, and I can explain to you at a later time if you like, but I would like to ask you to leave now. I am grateful to you for helping Mimi, and Nastasia will give you your reward as she shows you out, but I'm just not comfortable having you near me."

"I get that a lot," said Nawrocki. "Uh, here's my business card." He pulled it out from somewhere and offered it. "If any of you need any potions—"

"Thank you," said Count Bleck curtly. "I apologize, I really do, but—"

"Don't," said Nawrocki. "Don't worry, really. I totally get it."

He jumped down and onto the floor. "I don't know my way back, so…"

Nastasia jumped down next to him. She took his business card and said, "I will show you the way out of this dimension."

"Thank you."

"Hey, I wanna come!" said Mimi. "I have some questions about those potions!"

"Me, too," said Mr. L. "Uh, can I be excused, Count?"

"Fine," said Count Bleck. "Everyone who wants to follow the plant may do so."

Mimi, Mr. L, O'Chunks, Dimentio, and Tippi all jumped down to the floor to follow Nastasia and Nawrocki. Count Bleck, expecting that, disappeared.

As soon as they were on the floor, they bombarded him with questions. He crawled in the middle of the pack, surrounded by curious minions.

"Hey, Nawrocki? Do you make, like, love potions and junk?" asked Mimi. "Can I see a price sheet?"

"No, I don't," Nawrocki replied. "They always end in heartache and the scorned ladies come after yours truely. It's a CYOA legal move."

"Are your potions supplied with magic?" asked Dimentio.

"Yes," said Nawrocki. "100 per cent unfiltered. No corner-cutting in Nawrocki Industries."

"Got any that can help me unleash the full potential o' me flyin' chunks?" asked O'Chunks.

"Absolutely," Nawrocki said. "Unleash your full potential with Nawrocki's Special Blend. Every talent potion comes in a collectors cup."

"Ooh," Mr. L piped up, waving his wrench in the air. "Do you have anything to help my crippling inferiority complex?"

"No," said Nawrocki. "You'll want a pharmacist for that."

"Oh. Then, do you have one that makes me invisible?"

"Yes, I do have those." He reached into the folds of his leaves and pulled out a small stack of paper. He handed one sheet to everyone present. "Okay, here's my menu. Everybody take one and look it over, and if you want to buy something, call the number on the bottom. Pleasure doin' business with you. It looks like I'm on my way out."

"Yeah," said Nastasia, looking over her sheet. "So, I'll just sign you out and you'll hear from me in six to eight business days. I'm especially interested in this never-ending inkwell…"

"Actually," said Nawrocki, "It lasts for a designated amount of time, no matter how much it's used, but then it _does_ end. I have one, five, and ten year plans available."

"I'll have to run some numbers to see if it's a good investment."

"Okay, I know where I am now," said Nawrocki as they stepped outside. Charlotte came bounding up, barking loudly as she defended her territory from the stranger. Nawrocki disappeared while Nastasia slammed the door behind them.

* * *

Count Bleck was relaxing in bed. He felt fully justified in jettisoning the plant from his presence, but he also felt guilty. When Tippi returned, he'd talk to her about it to ease his conscience, or else find a way to make it right. She was very good at that, keeping him on track.

Someone appeared in the room.

"Doors," said Count Bleck with a sigh. "It's _very_ rude to enter someone's room without knocking. That is why we have doors even though we can warp."

"Sorry," said the plant-man, "but my aim is off."

Count Bleck jumped up, and found that it was wasn't one of his minions at all!

"We weren't formally introduced. I'm Nawrocki, of Nawrocki Incorporated." He offered a vine. "And you are…?"

"Count Bleck," said Count Bleck. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I'll be out of your hair in two shakes," Nawrocki said. "I just wanted to tell you, I've heard of you."

"I know," Count Bleck said darkly. "The Dark Prognosticus's choice to fulfill the prophecy. If you want my head on a patter, there's a waiting list."

"Uh, no. Different reason," said Nawrocki.

"Oh." Count Bleck was surprised. "I must be getting paranoid." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "This is the list of people who've threatened to kill me because of what I did."

Nawrocki looked at the list. "Two of the names are already crossed off?"

"Well, they exacted their revenge."

"I see." Nawrocki nodded wisely. "Well, anyway, I've heard a lot about you. I know your wife used to be a human and is now a pixl."

Count Bleck's eyes widened. "Where did you hear it?" he asked. "I mean, it's not a secret—it just isn't getting around very much."

Nawrocki shrugged. "I can't remember. Is it true?"

"Well, yes—"

"I can help her."

Count Bleck shook his head, too cautious to hope, but too hopeful to be cautious.

"A potion," he continued. "It takes 28 days to prepare, after collecting the rarest of ingredients, but if it works, she'd be human again permanently."


	4. Hope Against Hope

_I was sure about this but now I'm not._

_It's not something I noticed from the Marioverse, but fantasy in general- potions can be bad news because there's no Potion FDA to make sure it really replenishes hit points instead of just being a corrosive acid. For me it's always been given- mermaids can swim, trolls aren't smart, potions are questionable. Then I was all like, oh snap, maybe that's just me._

_I was going to have the scene with the Count anyway; I just wanted to make sure the role of potions was clear. They aren't inherently bad; Count Bleck just can't be sure._

* * *

"Tell me why you don't like that Nawrocki fellow," said Tippi.

Actually, she'd asked the question a while ago, and Count Bleck hadn't been satisfied with his answer. "It's the very nature of the job," he'd explained. "Especially where I come from. You see, potions aren't regulated very well in most parts of the world. You could drink a potion to make you fly, but it could really just make you itchy. At worst, it could be poison."

"You had a bad experience, didn't you?" she'd asked.

"Yes," replied Count Bleck. "A traveler passed through town and sold my father… it was supposed to cure me of my love for you. So he wouldn't have to deal with the shame of having his son in love with a human."

"What did it do?"

"It made me sick, that's all. Like drinking a glass of bad milk."

"Gross."

Count Bleck had decided to let the minions do as they pleased when it came to Nawrocki. He was their boss, not their father, and let them make their own decisions. Of course they all chose to sample some of Nawrocki's potions. The potions were expensive, but proved very effective. Count Bleck watched passively as O'Chunks buffed himself up to train, Mimi tried a perfume that changed scents to whatever the smeller found most attractive, and Mr. L age himself an electric charge when teaming up with Brobot. And nobody keeled over.

Eventually, he could stand it no more. He called Nawrocki to meet with him in his office only a few days after their first meeting.

"Bonsoir, Comte Niark," said Nawrocki as they shook hands. "Comment allez-vous?"

"Ça va comme ci, comme ça," replied Count Bleck. "And yourself?"

"I'm awesome, as usual. How can I help you?"

Count Bleck sat down at his desk. In his study, the desk was pushed against a wall far from the door so he could avoid distraction. In his bedroom, his desk was pushed on the wall with his back to the bed, so he wouldn't disturb his wife. In his office, however, his desk was in the middle of the room. Here he had power. In this room it was clear that he was in charge. His personality, though very good, wasn't enough. Everything about him spoke when he was in charge. In the meeting room, he stood the highest. When he'd threatened Mario, he hovered. When he met with someone, he was in the center of the room.

Now he looked up and down Nawrocki, who did not seem to be submissive in the least. He was leaning back casually in the seat, his roots dangling over the edge carelessly. He had several tiny teeth along his mouth that he was indifferently picking at as his eyes wandered around the room. Despite his formal greeting, he was behaving in a very laid-back manner.

"I'd like to take you up on your offer," said Count Bleck.

"You'll have to refresh my memory," Nawrocki said. "I make a lot of offers. I am, after all, a businessman."

"For Timpani," Count Bleck replied. He tired to show no emotion.

"Ah. That." Nawrocki straightened up. He dislodged whatever it was that he was picking at in his mouth and surreptitiously disposed of it. "It won't come easy, though," he said. "Sie ist es wert?"

"How much do you charge?" asked Count Bleck.

"Fifteen coins an hour, plus the cost of materials and expenses," replied Nawrocki. "That includes the price of tracking down the materials and time spent brewing. The potion can't travel once I've added the Amayzee Dayzee petals to it, so it has to be brewed on-site. I'll need access to a private room to work on it. Of course, being on site I can provide other mixtures at a reduced rate…"

"You can have the lab in the west wing," Count Bleck said, dismissing it with the wave of his hand. "We never really ever used it."

"Beautiful," Nawrocki clapped his leaves. "Then I claim it as an annexed property of Nawrocki Enterprises. I'll just put a time sheet together and pass it along. I'll need an advance, of course."

"I'll run it through Nastasia," said Count Bleck.

"I don't want to be disturbed when I'm working," Nawrocki added. "Can your roommates handle that?"

"They're _minions_," the Count said, not sure if he was annoyed or amused. "And yes, I believe they are capable of that. Although if I were you and it were important… I would lock the door."

"Gotchya. Well, zai jian, Bleck-a-roonie. I'm going to get some preliminary work on the area."

Nawrocki opened the door and left. Before it could swing shut on it's own, Nastasia caught it and let herself in. As instructed, she had been waiting for the conversation to end so she could discuss it with the Count.

"Yeah, so, how did it go?" asked Nastasia.

"Wonderful! Declared Count Bleck proudly. A bit pricey but nothing we can't manage. Best of all he needs to do the work in the castle. I can keep an eye on it and know that the potion is going as it's supposed to."

"Yeah, I heard your feelings on his potions."

"Not _his_," Count Bleck said quickly. "Just in general."

"I don't blame you," replied Nastasia. "But he does have an impressive list of contacts and testimonials on his menu." She pulled it out of her pocket and showed it to Count Bleck. "I even touched base some of these people, and they all said he was pretty good."

Count Bleck took the menu from her. "I knew you'd be on top of it," he said with a smile. "Now, can I ask you another favor, Nastasia?"

"Sure, anything."

"If Nawrocki asks you to do anything, go ahead and do it," said Count Bleck. "If you aren't sure, you can ask me first, but make sure you're available if he needs your help."

"Great," said Nastasia. "I'll answer to him, then, too?"

"Essentially. I think he may have a time sheet for you or something, as well…"

* * *

Nastasia met up with Mimi and Dimentio in the halls. She wasn't going to ask what they were doing, but it involved a lot of shouting and pushing.

"What's the story, morning glory?" asked Mimi in a chirpy voice. She currently had Dimentio in a headlock.

Dimentio warped out of her grip and up a few feet to the left. "Yes," he said, as if nothing happened. "I'm interested to know exactly what went on behind closed doors myself. Was our beloved Count meeting with the plant being?"

"Yeah," said Nastasia. "So, there's gonna be a change of arrangements in the castle for a while. First off, the Count says he's taking up the lab in the east wing. And because of that, I'm gonna have to go ahead and ask you to keep as far away from it as you can. We really don't want to be disturbing him, 'K?"

"He's gonna be working _here_?" Mimi squealed. "Ooh, that's so neat!"

"And make sure you _don't_ bother him," Nastasia reiterated.

"Got it," she said. "Only when he's working, right?"

"You really shouldn't be bothering him at all," said Dimentio. He flashed an innocent grin to her.

Mimi hurled a rubee that hit him square in the face. "We're having a fight," explained Mimi.

"I can see that," said Nastasia. "I'll leave you to it."

Mimi pulled out another rubee. Dimentio pulled out an energy sphere. Nastasia made a hasty exit. No need to get caught in the crossfire.

* * *

Count Bleck related the news to Tippi as soon as he finished speaking with Nastasia. He told her everything, from the moment he heard about the potion to his "zai jian" with Nawrocki minutes ago. She listened raptly the whole time. He sensed excitement from her, but when he finished she didn't speak.

"Well? Aren't you happy, my love?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm thrilled," she said sadly. "I'm just a little afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid to hope," she explained softly. "We were so close before… but as soon as we left our special place, it was gone."

Count Bleck lowered his head. "I understand," he said solemnly. "But hope is one of the best things to have." He took her in his hand.

"But the hardest to keep," she sighed.

"We can still go back there," he said at length.

Timpani was caught off guard. "You never mentioned going back before," she said, surprised.

"I didn't want to," he explained. "To go back to where we could be happy forever. How could I bear to leave it a second time? But if I want to set the world right, I cannot stay. 'What good can angels do from heaven? Better they come down to earth.'" He took a deep breath. "But if you don't have any hope, you must see something to hope for…"

"Oh, Blumiere…" She didn't have to think twice. "Let's go."


	5. What Meaning Do I Have?

_Nawrocki will soon explain why he uses many different languages. He primarily speaks this one but lapses into other ones when he is confused or trying to show off. What he says is generally not important, as much as the fact that he is saying it._

_The exchange in the last episode was as follows:_

"_Good evening, Count Bleck. How are you?" Said in a formal way._

"_Meh, I've been okay," replied Count Bleck._

_Later, Nawrocki said, "Is she worth it?" though it might be wrong- my translator was not a native speaker._

_At the end, Nawrocki said goodbye. _

_Count Bleck's response in French was a reference to FlowerStar's "Can't Speak French" songfic, where the Count can't speak French. I couldn't help myself._

* * *

Hand in hand, Blumiere and Timpani stood on the hillside of their own private paradise. It was still there, exactly as it had been since they'd left it. It seemed as if the land had frozen itself in time, waiting for their return. The air was fresh, the scenery was pristine, without a hint of must or fog. So hand in hand, the two lovers stepped back into paradise.

"I'd forgotten just how beautiful you were," Blumiere whispered as he looked into the human eyes of Timpani.

Timpani blushed and looked down. "I did, too," she admitted. "It's been so long."

He brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Remember how I used to do this?" he asked.

She smiled.

"I can't see your pretty face if your pretty hair is in the way," he said. "Remember how I used to say that? Soon I'll be saying it to you again every day."

"I love it," said Timpani. "But even if the potion works, our lives won't be this perfect."

"Good," said Blumiere. "They shouldn't be. A perfect life is hardly a life at all. No room to grow."

"I love you so much," said Timpani.

They embraced then, a perfect couple in a perfect surrounding, as close as two lovers could be.

* * *

Mimi was sitting on the floor in the pantry, sorting the mushrooms into bins. Most of them were ordinary red ones, but there were a few were mid mushrooms, poison mushrooms, and a single 1-Up Mushroom. Mimi put that one in the special items bin, next to a Starman.

Nawrocki opened the door to the pantry and swung with it as it opened. "Ohayo," he called. "Is this the pantry?"

"Yeah," said Mimi. "What's up?"

"Do you have any fire flowers?" he asked. "The potion stock needs more spice."

"I dunno," said Mimi. "I'm just sorting mushrooms."

Nawrocki began to paw around, mumbling to himself.

"Are you gonna be staying here?" asked Mimi.

"Yepperooni," replied Nawrocki. "'Least until your Count's potion is finished."

Mimi tittered.

"What's so funny?" asked Nawrocki. He pulled out a woven basket full of dried pasta and dried shrooms to see behind it.

"How come you talk funny?" asked Mimi, changing the subject.

"You mean the languages?" Nawrocki put the basket down and eyed some flowers hanging from a line on the top of the pantry. He climbed up the shelves to reach them. "I'm a traveling businessman," he explained. "I need to be able to converse in whatever language the people feel most comfortable with."

"You must be really smart," said Mimi.

"Thank you." He grabbed a fire flower and let himself drop to the floor below.

"Can I come see what you're working on?"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't," said Nawrocki. He tugged on one of Mimi's pigtail playfully. "Wouldn't want you too close to the unstable equipment. Your pretty li'l pigtail might catch fire on the burner or somethin'."

She grabbed her pigtail and giggled.

"Maybe you could show me around the castle when I'm done for the day, though," suggested Nawrocki.

"Okey-dokey!" Mimi clapped her hands once and went back to sorting mushrooms, humming happily. As Nawrocki left, Mimi decided that out of all the boys she'd ever had a crush on, Nawrocki was by far the most interesting.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dimentio was standing on the balcony outside his room. It was small, not even big enough for patio furniture, but it was good to open the tall French doors to get some air flowing, and to step outside in the evenings. He liked to go out there and lean on the ornate railing, looking out over the vast emptiness of Dimension Bleck. It was invariably dark and peaceful, no matter how much inner turmoil he had.

He felt like a fool. Even if he had made entire dimensions to rule, what would he do with them? Had he ever stopped to really think about that? Yes, he had, but now looking on those dreams he felt foolish. None of the ruling appealed to him, now. Perhaps he was just depressed, and nothing really appealed to him at the moment. Or perhaps he was a fool, and it shouldn't have in the first place.

So what now? Now was the time to reevaluate his life, get on track, find out how to really _live_. Find out what he really wanted. What would drive him, give him a goal to look forward to and satisfaction for his actions? He asked the question constantly, every day.

And he kept turning up empty.

He'd been out here every day, more than once a day, to be by himself. He'd looked at everything in the world on his new missions, and found absolutely nothing to inspire him. What, then was he to do?

He kept coming up without an answer.

Dimentio gripped the edge of the balcony. _There are still more chances_, he told himself, even though he didn't believe a word of it. _There's still something for you_.

He lifted one foot and put it on top of the railing. _Soon you'll be able to work your magic and really take on the world. That's what you want. That's what you're meant for._

He lifted the other foot and moved to place it on the railing.

"ah-Hem."

Dimentio changed actions at once. He lifted himself into the air and turned around casually. Nastasia was standing in the doorway of his room.

"I knocked but no one answered," she said.

"The acoustics must not travel well around the angle to the open window doors," said Dimentio lazily. "What do you want?"

"Count's got a mission for you," she said.

"My presence is requested in the meeting room?"

"No, he isn't back yet." Nastasia handed Dimentio a folded envelope. "He sent this to me to give to you."

Dimentio took the envelope and unfolded it into a letter.

Dimentio:

_Go back to the forest and see if you can retrieve an arrow like the one that hit Mimi so Count Bleck can examine it._

_Sincerely,_

_Count Bleck._

"I shall do as he asks me," said Dimentio.

"Very good," said Nastasia, and disappeared. Dimentio departed, too, without giving a second thought to the balcony. The moment had passed.

* * *

"That one looks like a Goomba. See how it's squat and has two little feet?"

"I do, said Blumiere. And right next to it is a Mecha-Koopa."

"I think it looks more like a Ninji."

"I don't see it."

"Keep looking."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"We're going to be here forever if we keep doing this. We have to be getting back very soon."

"Just a little longer?"

"If we keep waiting just a little longer, we'll never get there. This is why I didn't want to come in the first place. How can we possibly go back now, after what we've felt here."

"I know…"

"Let's go."

"Just a little longer?"

"…All right."


	6. 2 Disasters, 1 Ambiguous

A search for purpose, perhaps.

Dimentio prowled low to the ground, searching for the arrows that terrorized them on their last visit to the forest. He was walking along the ground, hands low, eyes open for anything that reminded him of those arrows. It hadn't been long, but he could see no sign of them anywhere.

Maybe he wasn't in the right place. The thought suddenly occurred to him, and made him somewhat uneasy. Once you get far enough into the forest, it all starts looking the same. He thought he remembered that three… or was it the other tree? Perhaps it wasn't either of the trees, but a different one entirely that he was remembering.

A Stinger buzzed ahead.

"Pardon me, Stinger," Dimentio flagged him down. "Can you tell me if I might still be able to find the arrows here?"

The Stinger paid him no mind, to which Dimentio wasn't surprised. Stingers never spoke. Too simple for language, he figured arrogantly.

Dimentio lifted himself high into the canopy of the forest and looked around up there. Bingo- an arrow lodged in a tree at an odd slant. It looked as if it had been fired at a very steep angle… if only he was better at trigonometry he might be able to figure out where it came from.

He yanked it out of the tree and looked it over. It didn't feel like a cheap wooden arrow. Actually, it felt more like it was made out of iron. Maybe some other kind of synthesized metal, but definitely metal. It had to be factory made, too, since it was too smooth to be hand forged.

Strange.

Dimentio pocketed it absentmindedly and began to head in the direction the arrow seemed to have come from. He'd already accomplished his mission and would be all too happy to call it done. He always had resented taking orders from the Count when _he_ had been the brain of the operation, manipulating everyone like a Puppox.

No more, though, he realized with a pang. Count Bleck was now in charge. Dimentio had no plans, no agenda of his own. He really and truly was working for the Count. And if he went back to Castle Bleck, he would have nothing of his own to do.

No purpose. All he had to do with his life was look for more clues on this one mission.

He banked left and ran into a tree.

"Foolish tree," he grumbled as he rubbed his head. "You've made a powerful enemy with that action." He held up his hands to conjure up a magic ball. But the energy didn't come. He flicked his hands to reenergize—but he _didn't_ flick them. They didn't move.

He felt a pinprick on his side that had been there for a few moments but just now could be felt.

_The arrow_, he thought.

He could no longer keep himself in the air. Falling stiffly, he crashed to the earth, arms still at the ready.

_At least someone knows where I am_, he thought glumly.

* * *

Count Bleck knocked on Nawrocki's door.

"C'min," Nawrocki called from the other side.

Count Bleck opened the door to the new Potion Room. When Count Bleck had given it to Nawrocki, it was the size of an Olympic gymnasium. Now it was curtained off into a 10x10x10 room, cramped with potion supplies and dark as a Koopa's shades.

"I came to check on your potion," said Count Bleck.

"Ah, yes," Nawrocki nodded. "Here—" he handed a sheet to Count Bleck. "These area all the ingredients in it. Your assistant hand-signed off each one."

They had done this every day since Nawrocki moved in. Nastasia inspected each ingredient that went into the potion and wrote up a report on it by the end of the day. So far everything was on the up and up. Count Bleck could tell that Nawrocki was careful in his work. The potion was coming along nicely.

"It's got to sit for a few days now," Nawrocki said. "But I'm going to stay here and catch up on my back-orders, if that's all right with you."

"Count Bleck approves." He nodded once.

"Thank you."

"May I ask why you've curtained off so much of the room?"

"It's just my work," explained Nawrocki. "I keep so much equipment stored back there. The real show, so to speak, is up in this little square."

Count Bleck reached for the curtain. "Would you mind if I took a look?" he asked.

"Not at all," Nawrocki replied, measuring out a small amount of the potion and pouring it into a small flask. "That is, if you don't mind loosing your hand. There's some dangerous stuff back there."

Count Bleck quickly retracted his hand.

"That's another reason this place is curtained off."

Count Bleck frowned.

"I'm making you uncomfortable," Nawrocki said. "I understand. However, if you'd like to examine this sample, you'll see that my potion is right on track. That is your main concern, isn't it?"

Count Bleck took the sample and intended to have Nastasia check it. "Thank you, Count Bleck said hesitantly. He also apologizes for his behavior."

"Tell 'im I said 'sa right,'" replied Nawrocki. "You have to go 'way now. I'm gonna do stuff."

* * *

Nastasia and O'Chunks were sitting on a small table for two on the roof of Castle Bleck. It was, of course, their first date. A humble affair, to be sure, but it was suited to them just fine. There was candlelight and a nicely prepared dinner, and of course the two of them. There was no romantic moonlight, just the vast emptiness of the dimension, but a stain was forever burned in the sky where the void had originated. That's sort of like the moon.

"This is nice," said Nastasia. "I'm glad we finally did this."

"I gotta be honest," replied O'Chunks nervously, "I 'ad no idea yeh felt this way about me… I'da brought it up sooner if I knew."

Nastasia nodded. She had suggested the idea on her own, without mentioning that she knew how he felt about her after being in his mind briefly back in Episode 8. It seemed like an invasion of privacy, even if it was unintentional. Also, she didn't want to risk her sharing it and having him share what he found in _her_ mind. There were plenty of things she would rather believe was still private.

"An' 'sides," O'Chunks continued, talking so he didn't have to think, "Yeh'r always goin' on 'bout that schedule o' yers, I dinn't know when'd be a good time fer ya, so I never knew when teh tell yeh I'd pick ya up…"

"O'Chunks," said Nastasia in her ordinary, businesslike no-nonsense voice, "You don't need to make excuses for yourself. I don't mind in the least. In fact, I understand perfectly." She looked down at her plate of sensible dinner and back up to him, and said, "Besides, I understand a great warrior of your caliber has more experience on the battlefield than with women."

"Yeah, an' look how that ended up," O'Chunks grumbled to himself.

"You mean the Battle of A Thousand Strong?" Nastasia asked. "I heard about that in your file- you never talk about it."

"Ah, me biggest failure, I don't ezzactly go spoutin' off to the heavens, now do I?" O'Chunks was suddenly defensive.

"Sorry," Nastasia said quickly. "Of course you don't speak of it. You've put it behind you."

"Aye," he said, but he said it a bit wistfully.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. At one point O'Chunks opened his mouth, but thought the better of it at the last minute. Nastasia coughed daintily into her elbow. Somewhere, off in the distance, a cricket chirped.

"What d'yeh talk about on one o' these dates, anyhow?" O'Chunks thought out loud.

"Maybe I should go," Nastasia said, standing up. "Thank you for a lovely time, O'Chunks. I'd better leave before the evening goes downhill." She raised her hand. "Waiter, I'll have this to go."

A small blue penguin with a bow tie tottered up to the table and took Nastasia's plate. "Okey-dokey," it said in Mimi's voice. "Oh- I mean, will that be all, madam?" She said it in such a serious and formal tone that a second later she burst out giggling.

"Never mind," said Nastasia. "I don't know why I agreed to let you do this."

Nastasia nodded once towards O'Chunks and disappeared.

"Ah, there she goes," O'Chunks said with a heavy sigh. "The love o' me life, an' I blew me only chance at 'er. That was a worse disaster than the time I lost me whole army from the betrayal of me advisor."

Mimi jumped up onto the table, as her old green self again. "Now, that's no way to talk, O'Chunks!" she said importantly. "You really like her, but you don't know what you're supposed to do. You need expert advice from me, the Demigoddess of Love Herself. More passion in this heart that in any of the Ancients, even."

"Ah, and what makes you so qualified teh talk like that?"

"I had more boyfriends than anyone else in my junior high class put together. So, whaddaya say?"

"Not a chance." O'Chunks stood up. "I remember how ya helped Nastasia way back in Episode 1. It din't work then and it in't gonna work now."

"What?"

"I said, I'm gonna find a way to win 'er affections me own way."

"Did you just say _affections_?"

"Aye. I read."

"_Really_?"

Suddenly a trapdoor opened on the roof several feet away from the table, and Count Bleck poked his head out.

"I was wondering where those voices were coming from, said Count Bleck with realization. May I ask what in the world you're doing on the roof?"

"Ah… I'd prefer that ya didn't," said O'Chunks truthfully.

"Very well." And he closed the trapdoor without a word.


	7. The Arrows

Indignity, thought Dimentio. Why must I suffer it?

"What is it?"

"I dunno."

"Do you think it's dead?"

"Touch it."

"I'm not gonna touch it, you touch it."

"I dare ya."

Dimentio couldn't roll over and look at them, but he could tell that there were at least three or four of them, whatever they were, leaning over him and whispering in hushed tones. Possibly just children, intrigued by the sight of something they'd never seen before. Humiliating, just humiliating.

"What's going on over here?" called another voice. It confirmed Dimentio's guess that the initial voices were children, because this one sounded older and more stern.

"Aw, we're just playin'."

"Well, keep away from that thing. You have no idea where it's been, it could be covered in germs. You go back to the village. Now, children!"

"Aw!"

"Can't we see what happens?"

"Come on!"

"You're no fun!"

"NOW, children!"

Dimentio heard the shuffling as the children left, and then he felt himself being stood up. He could now see where he was and what was going on. He was in a small clearing of the forest, just like every other small clearing in the forest, surrounded by the same trees and underbrush. But one thing was different- the creature, whatever it was, that was standing behind him. Was it some sort of monster he'd seen a thousand times before, or never in his life? If only he could turn around to see!

"I swear, the strangest things fall from the sky," the monster tutted to itself. "It makes me wish that at least one of the men from our village was a Hero, then maybe we wouldn't be out of the loop so much. Now, let's see..."

It was circling him as it spoke, and as it crossed in front he got a good look. It was an arrow, about as tall as he was. An arrow like a weapon, from a bow and arrow. It had two round eyes under the pointed arrowhead, and a large mouth under that inexplicably stretching far beyond it's skinny arrow body. The aerodynamic feathers on the other end flowed around it like a tribal skirt.

It passed in front of him twice more before it stopped, looked him up and down, and made a shrugging gesture. "Oh, well, I'd better toss it out in the woods.

Dimentio remembered that when Mimi was frozen, her mouth still worked fine. He decided to give his a try.

"If I may," he said, "I don't feel I deserve being tossed into the forest like so much garbage on a dewey morning."

"Oh, I didn't think you were an actual guy," said the arrow. "My bad. Sorry."

It jumped up and brushed Dimentio off with it's skirt end. He felt his muscles relax to the point where he fell forward on the floor. He got up slowly, brushed the dirt off of himself, and nodded to the arrow person. He felt around on his body for any damage that he couldn't feel, and found none. He also found that he no longer had the arrow, and couldn't imagine where it might have ended up.

The arrow leaned forward, as if expecting a thank-you. Instead, Dimentio said, "I'm looking for an arrow."

"You've got to be more specific than that," said the arrow. "There's a lot of us around here."

"As far as I know, the arrow I'm looking for isn't an 'us' so much as it is an 'it.'

"Oh, you mean like an inanimate object?"

"Exactly like an inanimate object," said Dimentio. "It fell from the sky and hit a companion of mine, turning her muscles to stone just as you found me. Would you know anything about that?"

The arrow nodded excitedly. "We saw them, too! They were just like the ones from a long time ago. Way back when."

"Way back _when_?" asked Dimentio.

"Yeah, way back when," the arrow agreed.

"No, I mean, what is this time period you're speaking about."

"Oh." The arrow thought for a minute. "Funny. We're such a tight-knit group and we certainly don't get many travelers or outsiders, it's been so long since I've had to explain what I meant to anyone, you know, we all know it--"

"Just tell me!" Dimentio cut in. "It's very important for me to find where these wayward arrows are coming from, for I'm on a mission."

"Oh. Well, way back when... see, the oldest of us were young at the time, and we used to live waaay, way up in the sky with our bow. Our bow worked for another guy, I forget his name, who sent bow to these woods, because they were, like, his now, and then one day he disappeared and left us here."

"I... see," said Dimentio, although he didn't see at all.

"Gooru could tell it better than I could," said the arrow apologetically. "He's the village storyteller, don't ya know."

"Would he know about the arrows that fell from the sky recently?" asked Dimentio.

"Sure would!" chirped the arrow. "I'll take you to 'im. I've got to get back to minding the children, though. Come on, step lively."

* * *

Nawrocki tosssed a handful of dried shrooms into the potion stock to even it out, stirred it once with a wooden spoon, and stirred the fire under it. He wafted the scent over to his face and frowned. Still too bitter. He scooped up a small bit in a flask and set it on the counter.

Nastasia knocked on the door and came in.

"Hi, Nastasia," said Nawrocki. "Can you come back in a minute? I'm trying to fix this..."

"Yeah, see, that isn't going to be possible," she said. "See, I've been given permission from the Count to check this potion whenever I feel necessary, and I'd like it checked right now, just to make sure it's going all right... 'K?"

"Sure," said Nawrocki. "It's a little bitter, I'm working on that."

Nastasia scooped some up with a cup. "I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said. "Thanks, this is just super. Bye."

When she left, Nawrocki relaxed. When she tested the potion herself, she'd see that it was exactly as it should be.

And that was exactly what Nawrocki wanted them to be looking at.

He reached one of his roots back and tugged on the closed curtain, to put his mind at ease that it was as closed as it could be.

* * *

Three hours later, Dimentio was still sitting on the floor in Gooru's hut. He'd long since stopped pretending to be drinking the tea or even listening to Gooru talk. Gooru kept all of the stories in the village, both legends and history, and he was easily distracted. Neither could he stay on topic. Dimentio had not asked a single question since his first one, inquiring as to the nature of one of the characters, and that caused a forty-minute digression that began with the history of that character and ended with an explanation of different lumberjack practices.

"...But the sea witch had made a deal with her sisters, and this knife, when plunged into the prince's heart, and his blood splashed on his feet--"

"Hold on a moment," Dimentio interrupted. "The prince is the founder of this tribe?"

"No, the prince is a character from one of our fairy tales."

"Why are we talking about fairy tales?"

"Because I was explaining how the children of our village were raised."

"Why were you explaining that?"

"To give you a better picture of how our village is so you can appreciate the value of where it came from."

"Can you not just tell me where it came from, and I can appreciate it on my own?"

"... No... no, I don't think that would be possible."

Dimentio thought for a moment on how to get out of this. He looked around the hut- a one room primitive dwelling with minimal in the way of comforts but very practical. As a storyteller, just as Dimentio expected, Gooru wrote down the stories in binded books. From where he was sitting, it looked like the writing system was thankfully the same as his own- no time to wonder about that.

Dimentio created a magic box around Gooru as he spoke, something about a popular children's game Dimentio didn't give a whit about.

"Good heavens, I seem to be trapped in a box!" he said, moderately suprised.

"That can happen," said Dimentio, nodding wisely.

"Oh, it's possible to get out," Gooru said. "It's happened before to members of our village when they travel out. We've found a good way of dealing with strange situations like this. The first time one of our villagers was trapped in a magical barrier, it was a young man by the name of Parce..."

"Do tell," said Dimentio, nodding widely. He edged sideways, but Gooru was wrapped up in his story and wasn't paying attention to Dimentio in the least. Dimentio scooped up the book and disappeared, reappearing out back of the village.

He looked up and down. Six or eight hollow tree stumps with thatched roofs, nine or ten more huts built out of brush to the same standards. Lots of villagers working, but none of them paying attention to him. Anything he can use?

Bingo. One arrow, stuck in the roof of a house. Probably missed from the last arrow shower. Dimentio snatched it up and left, not a moment too soon.


	8. Hostile Takeover

Dimentio slammed the stolen book down on Count Bleck's desk, along with the arrow. "You owe me," he said firmly.

Count Bleck picked up the arrow and looked it over. "This is perfect," he said. "You have pleased Count Bleck."

"You owe me," Dimentio repeated.

Count Bleck thumbed through the book. "What is this?"

"It might have something to do with the arrows," Dimentio explained. "There's apparently a tribe of them living out there in the forest."

Count Bleck nodded. "I had a feeling."

Dimentio looked up and down Count Bleck. "You owe me." Then he disappeared.

Count Bleck opened it and began to take notes for the Beige Prognosticus. "Interesting," he said to himself. "I've heard this story before."

* * *

O'Chunks was standing outside of Nastasia's office, pacing nervously. In all his days, he had never made such a heartfelt speech as the one he was preparing. Nothing in a warrior's life could prepare him for the perils of romance.

"'Ey, Nassy," he said. It was only practice, but he was still nervous as all get out. "Nah, that ain't right... Pardon me, Miss Nastasia... nah, too phony..."

Just then Nastasia came out of the room and walked quickly down the hallway.

"Wiat fer me!" called O'Chunks, and he fell into pace a step behind her. "Lissen, Nassy, I jus' wanted teh say I'm sorry 'bout our little--"

"Sorry, I can't talk right now," she replied briskly. "I have a very important message for the Count."

"Oh, all righ' then," he said awkwardly. He slowed down to a stop as she walked on, business as usual, without giving O'Chunks a second look.

He sagged, wondering what he could do to make it right.

* * *

"Count," said Nastasia, putting a memo on his desk. "I have a little note for your inbox. Someone's out calling for help, and nobody's answering."

Count Bleck picked up the memo. "Where's Mario?"

"Thousands of miles away from it," replied Nastasia. "Yeah, he's nowhere _near_ close enough to deal with this. You got any orders?"

Count Bleck scanned the memo. Hundreds of robots had descended from the sky and were terrorizing a small town of Toads. Bizarre, to say the least.

He put the memo down. "Call everyone and tell them to meet me in the Meeting Room. And tell Nawrocki we're going out for a while."

Nastasia nodded. "Got it."

* * *

Within minutes, the regular crew was assembled in the meeting room.

"Good news, everyone," said Count Bleck cheerfully. "I'm going to send you on an old kind of mission today."

"Do I get teh use me chunks?" asked O'Chunks, flexing his muscles.

"Do I get to use magic?" asked Dimentio.

"Will this mess up my hair?" Mimi fluffed her recently styled pigtails.

Count Bleck laughed. "Yes, yes, and yes! Minions, there are robots attacking a village that's closer to here than it is to Mario. I feel it is our duty to crush them with our mighty fist!"

"Yahooo!"

"All right!

"Yes!"

"Excellent!"

"Okay, settle down," Nastasia cut in. "Yeah, so this is pretty standard stuff like from back in the days of the Dark Prognosticus, but there've been a few rule changes since then and I wanted to make sure everyone saw the bulletin. Basically the Count doesn't want us to use 'undue force' or 'underhanded techniques.' So, let's have a nice clean fight, 'K?"

"Yes," agreed Count Bleck. "Now that I no longer want to destroy the world, I'd rather we didn't inflict too much damage on it."

"If you must," said Dimentio.

"Can I bring Brobot?" asked Mr. L.

"Absolutely. I think he may be a necessity."

Luigi threw his fist up in the air triumphantly. "Awesome!"

"Now run along, minions," said Count Bleck. "Contact Castle Bleck if you need help. Protect the villagers and destroy the robots. So commands Count Bleck!"

The minions couldn't get on their way soon enough. Tippi came to rest on the top of Count Bleck's hat, her favorite nesting place. "I think you handled that just fine," she said.

"I do hope the minions haven't figured out that I don't have the foggiest idea what I'm doing. I think they may be getting suspicious."

"Mmm, I don't think so. At any rate, you certainly are in good spirits."

"Thank you for noticing. I'm counting the days until we can be together just as we were before."

Just then, Count Bleck noticed Nastasia had hopped off her platform and was walking away. "Excuse me a moment," he said, and caught up with her. When he hopped down, Tippi fluttered off her hat.

"Need something, Count?" she asked.

"No, actually, I was just going to ask you that very same question. Has something been bothering you?"

"No," replied Nastasia. "Well, kinda, but its no one's problem but my own."

"I see. Well, if you ever want to discuss it with Count Bleck, do not hesitate. The happiness of my minions has always been important to me."

As soon as she left, Tippi landed back on Count Bleck's hat. "Although, I think she may have noticed that you don't have any idea what you're doing with _her_," she commented.

"Don't I know it." Count Bleck shrugged. "I've always let her make her own decisions when it comes to us. Her feelings are one place where I don't even _pretend_ to know what I'm doing."

* * *

Toads were scrambling around aimlessly like mad while large, gray machines were stomping the village. It was pure chaos, and Bleck's minions were _thriving_. The machines crumpled like tissue after a few blows from the minion's raw power, and it was so much fun to just cut loose and lay down some damage.

If you've ever been young, and stuck in a very long car trip for many hours, only to have the car stop and you were finally allowed to run free, stretch your legs and burn all the energy you wanted, you'll know how it felt for the minions. For so long everything had been confusing. There was no mission statement for their new organization, and no guidelines for every mission that came along. No one was ever sure what was okay and how it was supposed to go. So finally, Count Bleck had turned them loose and let them lay waste to a bunch of no-good monsters just like the old days, and it was the most satisfying thing any of them could have imagined.

Dimentio was blowing them up left and right. O'Chunks sent them flying with his fists. Brobot was stomping them under his giant boots. Mimi was hurling rubees like crazy.

The Toads took cover and watched in awe and terror. Who were these mysterious saviors, and why were they laughing like this?

"I can't remember when I've had this much fun!" Mimi squealed as she sent a tall, gangly gray one flying.

Brobot lifted his foot over one that looked like a knife with a face. Mr. L pulled a lever and in a moment it was gone, squished under his giant foot. "Me, neither," Mr. L called out to her. "Brobot hasn't had his daily smash in months!"

Dimentio laughed out loud. Not his usual condescending laugh, but a genuine, I'm-having-a-good-time laugh. He _was_ having a good time, such a good time that he didn't want it to end. If it did end, he would go right back to being confused, and that was an unpleasant thought. To chase it away, he sent a blast at another machine, with an arched back and stubby limbs, and it exploded.

"They sure are funny looking," Mr. L commented.

"It don't matter a bean 'ow funny-lookin' they be," said O'Chunks. "They look even funnier after we squash 'em!"

One of the machines tore the door to a house off its hinges and reached inside, grabbing a Toad.

"Eek!" shrieked the Toad. "Let me go!"

Dimentio blasted the Machine from the side, sending it flying. It dropped the Toad, and he dove and caught it, then set it on the ground.

"Thanks, mister," said the Toad.

Dimentio ignored him and went to finish off the machine. It didn't dawn on him until much later that he'd saved someone's life just then.

* * *

Count Bleck was in his office reading the book Dimentio brought him when Nawrocki knocked on the door. Tippi was still on his hat, but she was napping.

"Hey, boss," Nawrocki said, opening it. "There's something funny going on in the basement."

Count Bleck looked up. "Funny how?" he asked.

"Like… I think something's down there. Maybe one of your Chomp guards? I don't know."

Count Bleck hesitated. "We don't have a basement," he said.

"Well, you have _something_ under the ground floor, and I'm right disturbed by whatever it is that's going on down there."

Count Bleck stood up. "Show me."

Just then Nastasia walked into the room. "Hey, Count, just an FYI, I have—"

"Hold that thought a moment, Nastasia," said Count Bleck. "Nawrocki says something is odd in the basement."

"I thought you sealed it off, Count."

"I did."

"I know, right?" Nawrocki said.

"Would it make you feel better if I went and checked?"

"Yes," said Nawrocki. "Yes, it would."

"Fine," said Count Bleck.

"Can I walk with you?" asked Nastasia. "I really need to go over this."

"That's a good idea," said Nawrocki.

"All right," said Count Bleck. "I'll go check for the monster in the basement."

* * *

"One of us is gonna have to write up a report on this, aren't we?" Mr. L asked as they walked up the path to the castle.

"Who cares?" O'Chunks countered joyfully.

"Hey, yeah!"

Charlotte bounded over to welcome Mimi happily. Everyone else took a step away from her.

"Hello, precious, did you miss Mommy?" she cooed.

"That was awesome," Mr. L continued. "I can't remember the last time something so awesome happened to us."

"I would have to agree with you," said Dimentio.

"Ah, I ehn't felt so re-joo-vinated in nigh on half an age goin' on a fist o' chunks!"

"Do you even listen to yourself when those tragic excuses for words dribble out of your gaping maw, O'Chunks?" asked Dimentio.

"Ey, watch it!" He swung a fist at the air near Dimentio. "I'll smack ya teh next New Years if yeh keep insultin' me in ways I can't understand!"

Mimi giggled. "You both talk funny," she said.

Dimentio opened the door.

"Hey, Count, we're home!" called Mimi.

"Wonderful."

It was not the Count that greeted them at the door. It was two of those same machines they met at the village. They had small circle bodies and enormously long limbs and necks, with a pointed spear for a head, a long spear pole, and red capes.

Standing in between them was Nawrocki. Behind them, there were several more machines

"Hello," said Nawrocki. "Have you met my Machine-Mades? This is Yaridovinch, and this is also Yaridovinch. This is our castle now."

"What?"

"You can't do that!"

"It's nothing personal," said Nawrocki. "But I'm gonna have to throw you in the dungeon for a while."

Eight other Machine-Mades appeared then and apprehended them quickly.

"Big deal," said Dimentio, "We just took out like eight hundred of these guys."

"No," said Nawrocki, "you just took out eight hundred prototypes that I made with scraps. Those guys were like level two. These are the ones I've been perfecting. These are like level fifty."

One of them squeezed Dimentio's arm so tight the circulation was cut off almost instantly. He tapped Dimentio on his head with the pole and growled.

"Ah, I see," he said. "We'll just be going to the dungeon, then."


	9. The Dungeon

_I love you guys. You keep me on my toes. I actually had to read both the correction reviews twice before I realized what I did wrong… I'm not even going to tell you how many times I proofread the story._

* * *

"I'm not really a bad person," Nawrocki explained as the Yaridoviches dragged the prisoners all down the stairs to the basement. "I mean, okay, I'll grant that I'm not a _good_ person, but that's the cost of ambition. I got goals, you know? My point is, there's lots of worse people. Like King Wart. What's the deal with _that_ guy?"

One of the Yaridoviches opened the door at the end of the stairs and held it open for the others. Nawrocki walked in, sniffed, and pulled a string to light a bare bulb. They were now in the dungeon, musty from having been shut up for a long time. There was one cell on each side. On the left, Count Bleck was slumped against the wall. On the right, Nastasia was picking at the lock on a butterfly cage where Tippi was imprisoned.

"What is this?" Mimi shrieked in horror.

"It's the dungeon," replied Dimentio.

"That's right." Nawrocki clapped his leaves twice. "Yaridovich, you know the drill. Ladies on one side, men on the other. Yaridovich, Yaridovich, and Yaridovich, you make sure they don't get out. Yaridovich, come with me. The rest of you, um, take five."

Two Yaridoviches opened the cells and some others shoved the minions in. One Yaridovich locked the doors and then they were all gone.

"Welcome to the dungeon," said Nastasia. "So, um, enjoy your stay."

Mimi started rattling the bars. "Let me out! Who's going to feed Félicie?"

Félicie bounded out from some forgotten corner and started yapping. Mimi scooped her up. "Hi, baby," she cooed.

"I'm sorry," said the Count. "This never should have happened."

"I didn't know we had a dungeon," said Mr. L.

"I ordered it sealed up when I… when I put this castle 'under new management,' shall we say?"

"Aye," said O'Chunks. "I remember that day. I took a big boulder, see, an' I _heaved_ it like a caber into the doorway. Dinn' think anyone'd ever get it oot."

"He's devious," said Count Bleck. "He's been building those monsters, the Machine Mades."

"Well, we'll simply have to _un_build them," said Dimentio. "It should be easy enough to get out of these cells… with magic!"

Count Bleck shook his head. "That won't be possible… I specifically designed them so you couldn't teleport out. You can't use any of your magic in here." He looked up sadly. "You see… when I built them I never thought I could really trust any of you."

"You built these dungeons for us!?" Mimi put her hands over her mouth as she gasped. "That's awful!"

"No, no, not exclusively, explained Count Bleck. And I never undid it because I never intended to use these awful cells again. Best to just put it behind me." He hung his head in shame.

"You never could have seen something like this coming," said Tippi. "Don't blame yourself."

"I blame him," said Dimentio.

"You be quiet."

"What? He's the one building dungeons for his own minions."

"Yes, but _you_ were the ones who were evil."

"Not evil; just misunderstood."

Count Bleck raised his hand. "Please," he sighed. "No arguing. Just… no arguing."

* * *

Nawrocki had all of his Machine Mades lined up in rows and columns in his laboratory. The one tiny curtained off section was the front where he was making the potion. The rest of it had been turned into a sort of factory. Using his magic, Nawrocki had made it run almost silently.

"We're getting close, Machine Mades," he said. "Soon the dream of our leader will become the reality of us- a world full of weapons!"

He stopped at one row of Machine Mades. "One of you in this row is defective," he said. "I'm not sure which one, but something is _wrong_ here… Anyone who's defective, raise your hand!"

None of them moved.

"Okay, then, I'll just get to work. All of you in this row, come line up on _that_ wall."

This time they obeyed.

"Right, then…"

He began to inspect each of the seventy-five Machine Mades to find the one that was bothering him.

* * *

"I know!" Mimi cried happily.

Everyone in the cells looked up hopefully.

"I'll turn into a magic key! I've seen them before!"

The others groaned and went back to their original positions.

"What?"

"Mimi," said Nastasia. "Remember why your plan to turn into a Bullet Bill and smash the door open didn't work?"

"No, why?"

"Because it takes magic."

"Oh, yeah." She sat down and put one stick-hand to her chin. "Hmm… what if I turn into a Yoshi and eat the lock?"

"No, because—" Nastasia started, but then changed her mind. "You know what? Yeah, go ahead and try. Sure. That'll be fine. Everyone, stand back."

Mimi jumped up and held her arms out. Everyone waited. She frowned, and then jumped again. "It's not working," she said.

"Gee, I wonder why that could be," said Nastasia.

"I know, it's like, all weird and junk."

O'Chunks rotated his shoulders. "Ah right, I'm ready teh try again," he said. "Stand back, this could get chunky!" He gripped two bars that were already slightly bent and began to pull them apart. "Hrrrrrr… Graaahh!"

"Don't strain yourself," said Count Bleck.

"Ain't a bit o' strain on… hrrrrrr!… Ah'll 'ave this bent in half a spot o'— Ah!" The bars budged another centimeter. O'Chunks beamed. "There, see? Easy as fallin' in the river in a log rollin' contest." He leaned against the wall and slid down. "I'm just gonna catch me breath, then."

"Take your time."

Mimi kicked the bars angrily. "How could he do this to us!" she said, crying. "It's not fair! I hate this! I don't even know what's going on!"

"He said he needed our castle and he knew we wouldn't go along with it," said Tippi.

"Well, _duh_! I mean, this place smells awful."

"I meant the taking-over-the-world-with-weapons bit," she clarified. "But this is pretty awful, too."

"Well, that stinks too, but this is just _rude._"

Count Bleck stood up. "Timpani, my love, it pains me to see you suffer."

"Then you'd better think up a plan quick," she replied dryly.

"I may have," he said, "but you must understand one thing: that in order for us to be together, we may have to be apart."

"Blumiere, that doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, Count," said Dimentio. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I'm still thinking," said Count Bleck. "But we're in a pretty terrible bargaining position."

"So, we'll wait for O'Chunks to bust us out," said Mimi. "No need to bargain."

O'Chunks let out a loud snore.

"I'll begin a tally then, shall I?" Dimentio picked up a chalky stone from the dungeon debris and put a tally mark on the rock. "One day and counting."

* * *

Hours later, Nawrocki came in balancing seven trays of food on various leaves and vines, with a bowl perched on his snout. "Suppertime," he called merrily.

He quickly dished out the dinners, sliding them between the bars and getting everything squished in the process. Then he tilted the bowl sideways, trying to push it into the woman's cell but spilling a foul-smelling clear liquid all over the floor.

"Oops," he said. "Bad idea. Gomen nasai. Trés fatigué, not thinking."

"Pick a language and stick with it," said Nastasia irritably. "What _is_ that, anyway?"

"The potion," said Nawrocki. "Not that you can check it down here, but you know, show of good faith and all, I thought, maybe…"

"You're actually still making it?" said Tippi in disbelief.

"Well, that's what you hired me for, isn't it?" Nawrocki shrugged. "I'm a man of honor, you know."

"Really."

"Really. Now stop talking. I've been working for eighteen hours straight and I have a gigantic headache."

Count Bleck signaled Nawrocki. "I'd like to speak to you," he said. "I'd like to negotiate the terms of our imprisonment."

Nawrocki gave a short laugh that sounded more like a snort. "Really? _You'd_ like to negotiate with me? Aside from the headache, you're in no position to negotiate with me! What would you even offer?"

"You have to agree to negotiate with me before I'll tell you what I can offer."

"Hmm…" Nawrocki stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You've piqued my curiosity. I'll send a couple Yaridoviches to bring you to a private conference while we negotiate the terms of whatever you just said. Enjoy your meal." And with that, he left.

"Blumiere, what are you doing?" asked Tippi nervously.

"Making it up as I go," he replied. "Trust me, my love. I'll have all of us free, I know I will. It will just take a little… finesse, shall we say?"

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I hope so, too."


	10. The Deal

_I'm back from the good old state of California, I've beaten SPM for the fourth time and I'm completely rejuvenated! I'm glad you guys stood by me… it makes me happy knowing I make other people happy._

* * *

"The Count's been gone an awful long time," said Mimi. She was lying on her back with her legs up against the wall, tossing a rock up at the ceiling and letting it fall back next to her. "I hope everything's going okay."

"I'm sure it is," said Nastasia. "The Count is a wonderful negotiator. I wouldn't be surprised if he was able to get that Nawrocki out of the castle for nothing but a dead fish."

"'E'd better get back soon," O'Chunks growled as he paced back and forth by the bars. "I can't take bein' cooped up in 'ere much longer. Ah tell yeh, I'll go stark crazy innere!"

"Excuse me," said Dimentio nonchalantly, "but aren't you going to use those powerful muscles of yours to pry open the bars like… something funny that you pry open."

"Out of ideas?"

"Yes, I believe that I am."

"Well, 'ahm sorry teh hear that."

The door to the dungeon opened and Nawrocki entered with Count Bleck and two Yaridoviches.

"Bonsoir, y'all," said Nawrocki cheerfully.

"Have you come to an agreement?" asked Nastasia hopefully.

"We're about to find out," he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"We had some real tough negotiations," said Nawrocki. "But he finally appealed to my sense of efficiency and my sense of chivalry."

"…What do you mean?"

"If you let me finish, I'll tell you."

"Sorry."

Nawrocki walked to the middle of the room and surveyed the two cells. "My production quotas are way, way down because it's only me, and I've got this other side project going on… and it pains me so much to think of you lovely ladies rotting down here in the dungeon."

Nastasia sneered.

"His words, not mine," said Count Bleck.

"I'd absolutely love to let all of you go free," Nawrocki continued, "as long as all of the men agree to stay here and work in my factory."

"What?" Mr. L jumped up. "No way! I'm not going to work for a two-bit scumbag with chloroplasts!"

"Don't you go dragging cellular structure into this!" Nawrocki shot back.

"You can't be serious, Count!"

"I'm afraid I am." He turned to Nawrocki. "May I please explain my reasoning to them?"

"Absolutely. I can't make this deal unless they all agree."

"Thank you." Count Bleck walked up to the cell. "My friends, my loyal minions, there is nothing that can be done as long as we are all trapped in here." He nodded to the bent bars. "And there is no way out from the inside. I believe the freedom of some of us is worth the imprisonment of others."

"But workin' in 'is factory?" O'Chunks was doubtful. "This ain't exactly what yeh 'ad in mind when yeh said yeh'd be buildin' a better world o' hope and such."

"I know that, but even so, we would be in a better position then than we are now."

"It's cute how he's so optimistic," said Nawrocki to the woman's cell.

"Don't talk to me," said Mimi.

"Blumiere, don't do this!" cried Tippi. "I can't bear to leave here knowing you'd be trapped in his awful death factory!"

"If I'm all right with imprisonment, you should be all right with freedom, replied Count Bleck confidently. Please accept this freedom and use it the best you can."

"Yeah, but Count—" began Nastasia.

"That is an order_,_ Nastasia."

She stopped, and then swallowed. "Yeah. All right, Count."

"If Nassy's wantin' to go free, then I can't in good 'eart keep 'er from it by makin' waves. I'll stay too, Count." O'Chunks straightened up proudly. "It'd be an honor."

"That's good."

"I'm already outvoted, so I'll just agree anyway," said Mr. L.

"Good old spineless Mr. L," said Dimentio cheerfully. "We can always count on you to go with the flow."

"What about you, Dimentio?" asked Count Bleck. "Do you agree to these terms?"

"Why, of course I do. Far be it from me to deny any of my good friends the happiness this agreement would give them."

Count Bleck was suspicious, but he didn't say anything.

"Are we all in agreement, then?" asked Nawrocki. "Any stragglers? Miss Tippi?"

"… I guess I agree. Yes, I agree." Tippi's voice was shaky, but she spoke more firmly than expected.

There was a murmur of consensus.

"Now, there's one more thing you should know before we agree on it," Nawrocki continued. "You see, an agreement with a magic user like me is completely binding. You will _not_ be able to break it. Well, maybe you could, but you'd die if you succeeded. So don't go thinking you can lie to me, because you _can't_. And I don't mean bad-guy arrogance you can't. You just _try_ and break my agreement and you'll see. And the agreement is this: I will allow the women to go free if the men stay behind to work in my factory under my command. Clear cut and dry. Will you shake on it?"

"Yes, said Count Bleck."

"Very well."

Nawrocki extended a large front leaf and Count Bleck took it in his glove. They shook hands, and a blue glow surrounded their forearm area until they let go. The doors of the cells swung open. The deal was made.

"I feel as if I've just made a deal with the devil," said Count Bleck.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

Tippi flew out of her small cage up to Count Bleck. "Blumiere, I can't do this! I can't leave you!"

"You already agreed to it," he replied sadly.

"I know, but… I just can't bear it!"

"Timpani, my love, if we remain trapped here, we can _never_ be together. Now we at least have a chance. Remember what I said, in order to be together we might have to be apart. Even when I thought you were lost from me forever, you were still in my heart and mind. Now that I know you're alive and even where you are, how can that be any harder than what we've already suffered?"

Tippi didn't answer as the words sunk in.

"Aw, dat's shooo shweet," said Nawrocki. "Dere in wuv." He wiped a tear from his eye.

O'Chunks walked up to Nastasia and nodded. "I know yeh don't feel that way 'bout me… but I'll do whatever I can teh protect yeh from in 'ere."

"Oh, O'Chunks…" Nastasia threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. "You're such a dear, sweet tank of a man. Thank you."

O'Chunks went red. "Uh… yeah, then… I'll just be, ah…"

Mimi scooped up Félicie and looked around. "Dimentio, can I give you a goodbye hug?" she asked.

"Oh, of course you can't," said Dimentio cheerfully.

"Can I have one?" asked Mr. L.

"Ew! No!" said Mimi. "No, you can't!"

"I'll give you one," said Dimentio.

"Touch me and I'll break your arms."

"You'll have to find them first. I'll give you a hint: they aren't holding up my hands."

Mr. L shuddered. "Everything _about_ you is creepy, Dimentio."

"Then the illusion is complete."

Nawrocki clapped his hands, and all of the women disappeared, leaving him with just Count Bleck, O'Chunks, Dimentio, and Mr. L. "Are we ready for orientation?" asked Nawrocki happily.

"Can I say no?" asked Mr. L hopefully.

"Try it."

And, as it turned out, he couldn't. It was like Nawrocki said; a deal with him was binding.

* * *

Nawrocki put them to work on the production line, tending the machines that built his monstrosities. He was tinkering in another part of the improvised factory on a Yaridovich or other Machine Made that could to the job, but so far human labor was far better. Or, at least whatever kind of labor you get from a motley crew such as the one he'd just agreed to take on, since only one of them was actually a human.

O'Chunks was working an enormous press that shaped the raw material. His burly strength made him ideal for it, since he was the only one who could really do it easily. Count Bleck was nearby, sorting pieces onto different conveyer belts with a lever.

"You know," said Count Bleck, "I understand why you agreed to stay behind, and I understand why Mr. L agreed to stay behind… but why do you suppose Dimentio agreed so easily?"

"I don't wanna ponder what goes on innat crazy little mind o' 'is," said O'Chunks. "Prob'ly 'as some kinda evil plan worked out on 'is own."

"He is an odd one," said Count Bleck. "But I can't see what kind of evil he could work in a situation like this one."

"No 'fence, Count, but yeh din't see it before, either."

"Point well taken, O'Chunks. Keep an eye on him for me, would you please?"

"'Ey, I may be under some kinda witchcraft spell, but ah'll always take orders from you first, O Count o' mine."

"Thank you, O'Chunks. That means a lot to me."

Dimentio was floating nearby, keeping the machines fueled. He heard everything that the Count and O'Chunks said to each other. He knew perfectly well why he had agreed to stay behind, and would be dead and gone long before he admitted it to anybody else.

If he did what they did, he might finally understand this thing called happiness they all seemed to feel.


	11. Airtight

_From here on, there might be Super Mario RPG spoilers. It's been ingrained into my life for so long I can't tell anymore._

* * *

The women appeared in Flipside, in front of the white tower. It happened so suddenly that none of them had their bearings. Mimi was still holding Félicie in her arms. Tippi was perched on Nastasia's bun. All of them were holding perfectly still, unsure of what to think or do. The world kept moving around them. They were used to dimensional popping in this town. Tippi noticed this after a moment.

"Oh," said Tippi at last. "I know where we are. We're back in Flipside."

"Ah, yes, scenic Flipside," said Nastasia. "Home of Merlon, descendent of the Ancients, Howzit's Item Shop, and the dimension-famous Sweet Smiles. I must say, it's a step up from the dungeon."

"Hey, I remember here," said Mimi.

The door to Merlon's house opened. Since he was right next to the tower, he had seen something unusual going on right away. "Tippi!" he exclaimed happily. "And if it isn't Nastasia and Mimi! What brings you to Flipside?"

"Oh, Merlon, we really need your help!" said Tippi. "There's bad trouble back at Blumiere's castle!"

"Yeah, it's a real mess over there," added Mimi.

"Well, come in, then, come in!" Merlon held his door open. "My door's always open to you, Tippi- Timpani, I mean."

"Oh, thank you, Merlon. Thank you so very much."

When the last of them were in, Merlon closed and locked the door so they wouldn't be disturbed. He gestured for them all to sit in his comfy armchairs. "Now, tell me exactly what's going on."

* * *

"Dimentio!" Nawrocki hollered down the production line. "Stop floating around and… keep watch over those spray levels… I don't want my precious weapons… looking like the victim of a splatter-paint artist!" He crawled down the line slowly, keeping an eye on his workers.

"Nice job, O'Chunks… you have a way with that press…" he nodded approvingly. O'Chunks merely scowled. He would only accept praise from his master.

"I'm going to the back," he said. "If you stop working… then you're entering a… world of pain, you hear?" And with that, he opened a small door at the rear of the room and stepped in.

"We have a back?" asked Mr. L, turning a dial nearby for reasons he didn't understand.

"We have a tiny supply closet," replied Count Bleck. "I have no idea what he could possibly have in there."

Mr. L leaned over to get a look at the door where Nawrocki had exited, then went back to his mysterious dial-turning. "He's talking funny."

"Of course he is. He's starving to death."

"What?!" Mr. L stopped turning the dial and stared at Count Bleck.

Count Bleck nodded. "If my hypothesis is true. You see, he's a plant, and there's no sunlight in Dimension Bleck."

"Oh." Mr. L nodded knowingly. "Is that why you agreed to let us all stay here? It's, like, all part of your master plan or something?"

Count Bleck shook his head. "Yes and no. The reasons I gave before were true, because I didn't know back then. But now, I'm thinking it may not be such a terrible idea."

"Wonderful!" said Dimentio happily as he floated by. "How deliciously evil of you, my Count. And they say people can never change."

Count Bleck jerked his thumb up to Dimentio. "And _that_, my friends, is what is causing my moral conflict."

"The fact that Dimentio thinks it's a good idea?"

"Yes. Would you do anything he thought was a good idea?"

"… Um… no. I can honestly say, no. I wouldn't."

"Are _you_ going to do anything about this?" asked Count Bleck.

"What, me? No, of course not. I mean, not without your permission."

Count Bleck chuckled. "You may put on the mask, Mr. L, but you're still the same Luigi underneath."

"You take that back!"

"I don't hear working!" Nawrocki hollered from the supply closet.

"You can't hear through that door!" Mr. L hollered back.

"I hear all!"

Count Bleck shook his head and smiled at the absurdity of the scene that just took place, and continued turning the lever left and right, sorting the pieces. In a contemporary factory, this would be done by machines that could gauge weight and have the computers adjust accordingly. But this factory was very underdeveloped at best; a safety hazard all the other times.

He tried very hard to keep his mind on the work, but it wandered away. What if his theory was right? What if the plant wasn't getting any sunlight? The Count had his suspicions when Nawrocki first moved in as to how he would eat, but surely Nawrocki would notice it? He'd been photosynthesizing his whole life, and he had survival instincts to boot. Unless he couldn't interpret the situation. Perhaps he was too caught up in his world domination to realize that something was wrong or to analyze it. Or perhaps it wasn't like feeling hungry.

But here he was, rationalizing it when the facts were clear: Whether or not Nawrocki was _actually_ starving, Count Bleck had every reason to believe it was possible and was doing nothing about it. Talk about redemption. He would never be redeemed if he did something as despicable as this.

But was it despicable? It set things right. The master of the factory wouldn't be around and thus his plans would end. The world would be saved de facto.

But he would have let someone die.

_The problem will solve itself, Count Bleck assured himself silently. He must have survival instincts that will let him know._

_Certainly, go ahead and rationalize it. That's the best way to gain your redemption._

"I _can too_ hear everything!" Nawrocki hollered from the closet. Count Bleck jerked his head up, suddenly terrified. Could Nawrocki hear his internal conflict this whole time?

"Then what name did I just call you under my breath?" Mr. L hollered back.

Count Bleck breathed a sigh of relief. Of course. They were still doing their own sketch.

* * *

Merlon sat silently while the three women tried to tell him the story. Tippi told it as best she could, but when she got too emotional Nastasia took over. Eventually she, too, found she had to stop and Tippi took over once more. Mimi butted in every time she thought she had something to say, which was rarely close enough to the topic to count.

"But—but by then he'd already closed the door!" Tippi said in a voice that was bordering on hysteria. "I felt something was wrong! I felt it and I brushed it off! I had a gut instinct and I ignored it! That's so foolish! It's just… it's just…!"

"Yeah," said Nastasia. "So, after that, he had his Machine Mades lock the door. A little while later he had the others join us. I guess he probably captured them when they got back from their assignment."

"Yeah," added Mimi. "We were, like, smashing things and junk."

"Yes, you were. And we made this deal with him, y'see, where he would let us go free as long as the men stayed behind to work in his factory. It's a binding contract, though. Airtight."

"He wanted me to leave!" Tippi cried. "What should I have done? I couldn't leave him, but I couldn't stay!"

Merlon listened patiently until they quieted down, and then he began to speak. "So, I may infer that your biggest goal right now is to free the others."

"Yeah," said Nastasia. "That's the first bullet point on the list."

"Hm." Merlon got up and walked over to bookshelf of his room- being a wise old man, the whole room was practically one big bookshelf with more on the floor- and selected one seemingly at random. He knew his own house better than himself. Then he sat down again and opened the book.

"He wants to fill the world with weapons," Merlon said out loud. "Is that what you said he said?"

"Yeah," said Tippi. "Like Smithy."

"Who's Smithy?" asked Mimi.

"He was a _monster_," Tippi said darkly.

"I remember him," Nastasia said. "Yeah, didn't he have, like, his own organization or something?"

"I'm not sure," said Tippi. "But he wanted to rule the world and fill it with weapons."

"That's true," said Merlon. "He called his group the Smithy Gang. According to these ancient texts—"

"Ancient? This happened thirteen years ago."

Merlon looked up in surprise. "Really? I could have sworn… all right, then, according to these contemporary texts, Smithy came from another world to conquer this one. He and everyone in his gang were bested by Mario."

"So, like, he went back to his old world?" asked Mimi.

"No, sweetheart, he's dead."

"Oh!" She thought for a moment. "Like, totally dead?"

"No, he's only mostly dead. There's a difference between mostly dead and all dead."

"Oh… wait, really!?"

Nastasia gave a disapproving look to Merlon. "Don't tease the poor thing."

"So it was Nawrocki in the woods shooting arrows," said Tippi.

"He must have been there because of the tribe you told me about, to do research for his project," said Merlon. "Those arrows must have been left behind when their master, from the Smithy Gang, was defeated. With nothing else to do, they remained there. Perhaps they're still waiting for him to return like the Messiah and take them away."

"That's a depressing thought."

"They're happy enough."

"That's not _happy_ enough!" Mimi cut in. "Wait, were any of you around for that joke the first time?

"Mm, no, I don't think so," said Nastasia.

Merlon stood up. "In any case, I'm certain none of this was planned on his part. He was in the woods when you were there, researching his own projects, and then when he ended up in your castle he took the opportunity to…"

"Requisition it," said Nastasia.

"Which means, the plan might not be as airtight as you fear." He flipped through the book until he came across a bold illustrated map. "He must be playing it by ear as you are. First off, the deal is very vague. They must work for him in his factory, and that's all. They can still fight. I doubt very much they are in a position to now, but if we can send aid to them, they can resist."

"Where would we get aid?"

Merlon looked up at them. "Don't tell me you underestimate me. I have all the assistance you need."

* * *

_Fun fact: If you write a chapter awesomely and decide to put it aside and read it early the next morning to edit it instead of foolishly publishing it before bed, you will get insomnia and not fall asleep until 5 in the morning. Or, if you replace "you" with "I" at least._

_We'll be right back after these messages..._


	12. We Both Have Plans

_Glidel- if we have the same definition of "dramatic breakdown," then future posts of mine will not disappoint. If we don't, maybe you should elaborate. Read my mind!_

_To everyone else: I love you guys. Seriously, you're… you're just great._

* * *

Nawrocki had an entire army ready in just two days. They stood at attention, unmoving without his command. He had them all lined up orderly in the lab, spilling out into the hall and into the surrounding rooms. The walls didn't disturb their perfect grid; they were simply avoided.

"Isn't it beautiful," he whispered tearfully as he crawled down the aisles of Yaridoviches. Count Bleck was following behind him. The other minions had gone to bed hours ago. It was two in the morning.

"It's an abomination," said Count Bleck, without bothering to hide his disgust. "What you're doing is an abomination."

"Don't start with me." Nawrocki pointed at him menacingly. "Don't even. I'm not in the mood."

"You must be happy," said Count Bleck. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked over the army indifferently. "Your dream is about to come true."

Nawrocki took one of the inactive Yaridoviches by the hand and looked over it. "Sturdy," he said to himself. "Useful. The prototype's hands were brittle, but these are just fine." Then, to the Count, "I've had dreams since I was a sapling, but never have I been close to having them come true."

"What sort of childhood would someone have to have to grow into dreams such as these?"

"Buh?"

"_Why_?"

"Because the world is a sty," said Nawrocki. "It's a hellhole from latitude to longitude. But a world full of weapons, doing _my_ bidding, would be gorgeous. And I will be king."

"You don't have anything better to do than make sure everyone else is miserable?"

"Why should I sacrifice my happiness so everyone else has a chance to be moderately less miserable?"

"Because all life has value."

Nawrocki snorted. "Are you freaking kidding me? Didn't you just _wipe out existence_ a while back? Ring, ring." He pretended to answer a phone. "Hello? Hi, Kettle. This is Pot. Guess what?" He crawled to the back of the room to his tiny closet.

"I was wrong!" the Count called after him. "And somehow, I'm going to make you realize you're wrong, too."

"Good luck. Better psychiatrists than you have tried."

"If you don't care about anyone else," said Count Bleck more thoughtfully than angrily, "then why did you agree to help Timpani?" He was moving closer to Nawrocki now, close enough to talk but keeping his distance.

Nawrocki rolled his eyes. "Even _you_ can't be this clueless. Did you _see_ the amount you were paying me or did your assistant just take it out of the safe? I needed cash. You think all these Yaridoviches were free? You think scrap material grows on trees? No sir."

"You have your money. Why are you continuing to make the potion?"

Nawrocki gave him a weird look. "Because that's how it works," he said as he opened the closet door.

"Why, though?"

"Stop asking dumb questions," said Nawrocki. "And go to bed." He stepped into the closet and slammed the door.

Count Bleck left the room, but he didn't go to bed. He had other things to do.

* * *

Meanwhile, the girls were carrying out their own plan. Mimi warped herself onto a balcony on the side of the building. The Count had made it so that you couldn't warp into the building, for security purposes, so she settled for the closest balcony with an easy entry. There was a pair of French doors on the wall, slightly ajar. Quiet as a mouser, Mimi slid her hand into the gap and eased the door open. There was no moonlight, so all she had to worry about was the sound carrying.

She tiptoed carefully into the room, hugging the wall until she got into the corner, and then walked forward slowly. She was so used to the space in front of her being empty that when she found her first piece of furniture she went tumbling. Mimi went head over heels over a small bed and landed flat on her butt on the other side.

Dimentio jumped up and clicked the light on with magic. "I told you, I didn't mean to spill it! Don't tell him I spoiled the afghan!" He saw Mimi sitting on the other side of the bed. "Good morning, Mimi. Nice burglar getup. Is Madame Felon's spring lineup already out?"

"Shut up," she said, "this is my home still."

"A woman sneaking into a man's room though the balcony, though? It doesn't look good."

"Maybe if you didn't leave your dumb old windows open it wouldn't have been the only way to sneak in here."

"First of all, my dear," he said, "these are not windows, they are French doors." He got up and latched them. "And second of all, you haven't yet apologized for waking me."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna," said Mimi. "I'm sneaking in to get some weapon stuff Nassy said we left in here, cause I can shape shift into something secret if I get caught."

"I'm quite ahead of you," said Dimentio. He knelt down and reached under his bed. Then he pushed out a small square, lying on its side. It was the same square he'd used to trap other people or teleport around. Dimentio lifted it up and spun it 180 degrees. It left a trail behind itself so that the turning caused it to become a cube. Inside the cube was a treasure trove of items.

Mimi started pawing through them. "Wow. Fire flowers, shooting stars, thunderbolts, starmans, sleepy sheep…"

"And all of the mushrooms we found in the woods," finished Dimentio. "I took the liberty of liberating them from the pantry. They're mostly the standard kind, but here's a few super shrooms and a mid mushroom."

"That's a 1-up shroom," said Mimi. "I found it under a bush."

"Oh, really? Then I'll just hold onto it." And he made it disappear. "I have no use for these. If you're going to take them anyway, I won't bother to try and stop you."

"So, you're being helpful now?"

"No, I'm simply not being hinderful."

"That's not a word."

"I just said it, didn't I?"

Mimi took the box and re-folded it clumsily until it was just how Dimentio had given it, although the dimensions were a bit askew. She picked it up and hugged it to her chest. "I didn't know we had all of this junk. Where'd you find it?"

"In the closets, in the cupboards," he lied. Actually he had been stockpiling and swiping things for as long as he'd been there, in case he ever had an emergency and needed an item. "Now go away, please."

"Right," she agreed. "Before I get caught."

"No. Because it's two o' clock in the morning and I'm very, very tired." He turned her around by the shoulders and began to push her out of his room.

Mimi scowled and turned into Bowser. "Alright, alright, I'm going! You don't have to push!" Then she spat a fireball on the ground right in front of him. He hopped back and up in the air, but not before getting his curly toes a bit singed.

"Go ahead," he said, "wake up the whole castle. I'm not the one who'll hang if Mister Nawrocki finds you."

Mimi turned into a Puni. "I'll just sneak out real quiet-like," she whispered. Then she grabbed the item box, somehow, and skittered away, squeezing under the French doors.

Dimentio sat back down on his bed. He was wide awake now.

_This is atrocious,_ he thought. Here he had just done something that Count Bleck had encouraged his minions to believe in, to do, what he seemed to base his life and code of ethics around- to do good for someone else without anything in return. In such a case, he assured them, the feeling of doing good was greater than any reward.

And what did Dimentio get in return?

Absolutely nothing, like he expected.

Resentment, at least; now _she_ had those items, and goodness knows what she would do with them. Ruin everything, most likely. Years of hoarding down the drain.

You can't be a villain. You can't be a hero. You can't be Dimentio.

* * *

Count Bleck was leaning on his windowsill, thinking carefully. He was looking at the purple stain in the sky, a permanent blemish from where the void had first emerged. In this dimension, that mark of shame would be visible up there until the end of everything.

Perhaps this was a tortured, painful blessing in disguise. He'd thought about it for a long time. This was his chance. He would stop Nawrocki and save the world. Was that enough to redeem himself from trying to destroy it? Somehow he had been able to convince himself that yes, it would be fine. He could be redeemed.

He tilted his head to the side. He had thought he'd seen something brush past the stain. A glittery glint of sorts. Was something out there? He squinted and then widened his eyes, but whatever it was had gone.

No matter. He decided to go to bed. As it was, he'd be exhausted when Nawrocki threw them all out of bed to go to work in the factory. This deal he'd made was a real pain. Hopefully it was paying off- that his dear Timpani was safe.

_

* * *

_

I was asked this before in a review but forgot to answer- yes, there is a such thing as French doors. Google it and see the pictures. For some reason, I really_ like them. I want some someday. Although that might interfere with my dream to have a townhouse…_


	13. Despair

_Nawrocki is kind of like my Mickey Mouse, in the sense that I can put him in any situation and he has the potential to work. Just like Mickey can be a ghost-hunter, mountain climber, conductor, fireman, or sailor just as long as he's friendly, happy, and nice, so too can Nawrocki cause trouble just as long as he's altogether unpleasant. I can just see myself in the future, at the top of my entertainment empire looking down and making a speech, "I only hope we never loose sight of one thing... that this was all started by a dimension-hopping alien plannimal."_

_Or maybe not. In other news, I now own an iPod. I'm still not sure how I feel about this. Details at 11._

* * *

"The Green Thunder will take care of this!" Mr. L jumped on top of his bed struck an awesome pose, the kind that just needs a starburst to happen behind it to do the pose justice.

He looked around his empty room proudly, imagining applause and cheering for him. He nodded in approval, and then stepped down onto the floor. "Almost perfect," he said. "But I don't think it's got enough pizzaz..."

Earlier Count Bleck had said to him, "You may put the mask on, Mr. L, but you're still the same Luigi underneath."

Oh, yeah? Would the same Luigi be risking life and limb on a daring mission to overthrow Nawrocki and bring Castle Bleck back to the status quo. No, but that's just what Mr. L was planning on doing. He would save everyone. Then praise! Oh, the adoration he'd receive when everyone finds out that it was he, Mr. L, the Green Thunder, who saved the day! Hurray and huzzah!

Except when he opened the door, he decided he wasn't quite ready to go out into the spooky forboding hallway. It was probably because his poses weren't perfect. So he was in his room practicing them until he was confident enough to go out into the hallway.

* * *

Nawrocki was sitting on the windowsill of the lab, resting. He'd been sleeping a lot lately. Even so, he always felt tired and a little listless. Probably he wasn't setting enough time to photosynthisize properly. Humans can digest as they do other things and they take it for granted (there's no reason not to); lots of animals (and plannimals for that matter) have to expend time and effort on it. Nighttime was a good time to rest and digest, both the nutrition and the wealth of information he'd acquired that day.

Soon enough, though, he would need all the energy he could get. If the production numbers stayed up, he would be ready to ship by the end of the week. "Ship," meaning, of course, "take over the world." Thousands of weapons would be descending upon the unsuspecting populace like so much...

Hm. Nawrocki made a mental note to ask Dimentio to come up with a good similie for the occasion. They weren't really his forte.

He got an excited little shiver thinking about it. First Castle Bleck, then the worlds!

* * *

Meanwhile, outside, Mimi returned with the small flat box that Dimentio had stored his swag in. Nastasia was waiting a far distance from Castle Bleck, on the very edge of the dimension.

"I'm back!" she chirped. "I have all the stuff I could get."

"Is that so?" Nastasia took the box from her. "Yeah, you weren't gone for a very long time. Did you really give it 100%?"

"I hit the jackpot." Mimi opened the dimensional box the same way Dimentio had. "See?"

Nastasia looked in and her eyes bugged out under her glasses. "Yeah, this is satisfactory." Her face didn't quite match up to her tone, but she quickly brushed off the surprise. "Let's get it back to Flipside as soon as our surveillance unit returns, 'K?"

As if on cue, Tippi fluttered down to the meeting. "I'm back," she said. "I checked out on what they'd been doing. There's, maybe 1,000 of those Yaridoviches that caught us that I can see from the lab window. I couldn't stay because Nawrocki was sleeping there and I didn't want him to wake up and find us."

"Did you see anything else?"

"Blumiere is fine," said Tippi.

"I mean, were the only robots Yaridoviches?"

"Oh. Um, yes... That I saw, I mean. They all looked the same." Pixls don't blush, but she more than made up for it in her tone.

"Then we'll go back to Merlon now," said Nastasia. "Yeah, so we'll go back to Merlon and get the next step in our plan."

* * *

Redemption.

Count Bleck thumed through the Dark Prognosticus. There was nothing in that book about hope, let alone redemption. He was desperate now to stop Nawrocki and save his friends and by proxy the world. But he had no ideas. Nawrocki had a platoon before they even knew he was evil. Now Count Bleck was in so far over his top hat that he felt he was drowning in hopelessness. Then he would die, and have no chance at redemption.

What a stupid problem.

Normally he wasn't so blunt and preferred to express his displeasure with gentlemanly eloquence, but there was no sugarcoating it. This was a stupid, stupid problem.

If he was looking in the Dark Prognosticus for _hope_, then it really was hopeless.

* * *

Mr. L was still practicing his poses when there was a knock at the door.

"Door's open," he called. He experimented with his one hand out, peace sign, other hand in a fist on his chest. Bent knees, check. No, still not cool enough.

Dimentio opened the door and floated into the middle of the room. "It seems I'm not the only one stricken with insomnia," he said.

"You can't sleep either, huh?" Mr. L and Dimentio were on the same eye-level, so he didn't bother jumping off the bed to face him. "Come on. Make poses with me."

Dimentio shrugged and complied, and the two of them experimented with different cool, dramatic poses.

After a few tries, Dimentio said, "Tell me, then, Green Thunder, why the sudden interest in striking a pose?"

"I'm gonna save the day. I want to look awesome when I do." He turned around. "Why'd you come here?"

"Much as I detest being within the presence of other beings, I find myself hungry for companionship."

"You get lonely??"

"I suppose everyone does from time to time," said Dimentio offhandedly. "Here, put your back against mine. We'll mirror each other. Green is the opposite of purple, yes?"

"No, it's yellow," said Mr. L.

"Ah. No wonder I find my outfit so coordinated."

"Seriously, though, you get lonely?"

"Apparently. May I ask you a question?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Why do you find satisfaction here at Castle Bleck?"

Mr. L rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. "Gee, that's a weird question. Well... I guess it's because I've never felt as useful as I have here most recently?"

"Useful?"

"Yeah. Like, other people would be inconvenienced if I weren't around, and happy if I were, you know?"

"I have never known someone to be happy when I was around if my absence was a plausable alternative."

"Why am I not surprised." Mr. L sat down on the bed. "Look, Dimentio, you goin' through something or what?"

"I do not 'go through things.' I was simply curious about the pitiful states of friendship the rest of you waste your time with. Frankly, it doesn't make sense to me."

"Makes perfect sense to me."

"Keep it if you want." Dimentio shrugged. "This has been an completely useless exchange. I am off to raid the kitchen. I'll leave you to your poses."

"'Kay. Bye." He jumped on the bed and tried one more, arms up. "How's this one?"

"I'm not looking!" Dimentio sang. He was already out of the room.

* * *

Dimentio ran into Count Bleck in the hallway. They collided with each other and staggered backwards. Count Bleck lost his footing and fell forward into a kneel.

"Is no one sleeping?" he said out loud. It was then he saw that Count Bleck was clutching something to his chest.

"What is that you have?" he asked. "You're clutching something defensively, like a mother orangutan clutches a small, defenseless kitten."

Count Bleck looked up, a wild, wicked grin pasted across his face. "Count Bleck has found something," he said smugly.

Dimentio craned his neck sideways and made a mock gasp. "Why, is that the dark book of prophecies I see you holding so protectively?"

Count Bleck nodded once. "Our problems will be over faster than you can say Miso Soup."

"What evil will you bring upon our captor?"

"Ah, but that's just it!" He was giggling now to himself, under his breath. "Bleh heh heh heh! Bleck! When evil is wrought upon evil it brings only more suffering… but when it is wrought _against it's own self_ then it will cave in and be destroyed!"

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I have to remind Nastasia to write that in the Beige Prognosticus."

"Count, that book has brought us _both_ nothing but frustration." He rubbed his head. "And pain. A _great_ amount of pain, actually. If we're going to be evil again, I say we rely on our own selves."

Count Bleck didn't listen to Dimentio. He continued down the hallway, his mad laughter trailing behind him, "Bleh heh heh heh heh heh… Bleck!"

"Goodness," said Dimentio to no one in particular. "It looks like our dear Count has finally lost his mind."


	14. The Fan

To recap:

It's still the middle of the night.

Nawrocki is building an army of Machine Mades to fill the world with weapons, which he will then rule.

Tippi, Nastasia, and Mimi have teamed up with Merlon and are planning to overthrow Nawrocki from the outside.

Mr. L isn't happy about being a pushover, so he's decided to save the day somehow.

Dimentio isn't sure what he's going to do, but he does feel like doing something.

Count Bleck has pulled out the Dark Prognosticus for more than research. There's a possibility he's lost his marbles.

And where's O'Chunks during all of this?

He's sleeping. Well, it's the middle of the night.

* * *

Count Bleck was flipping through the pages of dark prophecies, looking for the passage he'd seen earlier. Dimentio was hovering behind him idly, making a token effort to talk him out of it.

"The noble Count Bleck  
Is certainly quick to turn  
Back to his old ways," said Dimentio.

"Don't judge me with haikus," said Count Bleck. "This book of prophecies goes on forever. The end of the book was when I created the void, and now that's only in the middle. It seems Nawrocki is fated to be striken by his own hand, as long as a gloved fist crashes down. 'Take, then, the spell of Chaos, that you may increase your power a hundred fold, and use it to do the bidding of the Dark Prognosticus.'"

"Ah, yes, a superb idea. Do the bidding of the book that's already screwed you over once."

"I'm not doing it's bidding," said Count Bleck. "It is a book. It cannot rule me as long as I don't let it."

"It's not a book. It's a tome filled with evil. In fact, you've got some evil on your hands."

"I do not!" Count Bleck was already wiping his hands on his cape. "This book holds dark secrets that many can't handle. I may be the ony one capable of working it's magic. After all, I've been in the heart of the void. Who better to cure a snakebite than one who's survived it?"

"Flawed analogies aside," said Dimentio, "I shall no longer take part in this. And thus I am gone, like the sale price after a festive holiday season."

Count Bleck shrugged it off and continued looking through the book. "Yes, yes," he said out loud. "Carry the seven... and map it to there..."

* * *

Back in Flipside, Merlon was greeting the women as they returned to the house.

"Did you arrive at Dimension Bleck safely?" Merlon asked.

Nastasia hung her coat up on an old-fashioned coathook. "Yeah, it was 100% successful. Tippi reports that Nawrocki has increased his army exponentially, and Mimi's gotten us some supplies we can use to attack the fortress."

"Great," said Merlon. Mimi handed him the strange box Dimentio had given her. Merlon turned it over hin his hands a few times, nodding wisely. Then he put his fingers on the edge and tried to pry it open. He frowned and examined it.

"Here, let me," said Nastasia. She took the box and began to turn it around as Dimentio had until it was a cube, and then she opened the top. "We're not all masters of dimensions," she said. "It took me weeks to get the hang of it."

"One of Dimentio's inventions?"

"Yeah."

Merlon looked inside and let out a long, low whistle.

Tippi landed on Merlon's hat and looked in, too. "Oh, wow!" she yelped.

"Good," said Merlon. "That at least begins to even the playing field... that combined with the great powers of the others, and you should stand a chance."

He opened a large, thick tome of his, _A Brief History of Mechanics_. He opened the book and pointed to a model of a strange heap of iron that looked somewhat like an evil stick figure. The girls leaned in and looked curiously.

"This is a very early machine made," said Merlon. "I've been studying them to give you an advantage should the need to fight arise... but my relm is in magic, not machines. I must confess I know very little of these things. I can't even program my VCR to record Flint Cragley."

"Most magic people don't know much about technology, do they, Mr. Merlon?" asked Mimi.

"No, I'm afraid not. They're both very different areas of study, so that anyone who specializes won't find many fields where they overlap. For example, you don't find many lawyers who are also accomplished pastry chefs, or ninjas who design circutboards."

"Then why does Nawrocki do both?"

Merlon's eyes lit up. "He does, doesn't he? You told me he was a potion mixer."

"Yeah?"

"Well, potions are something I know a thing or two about. And I'm betting Nawrocki does, too. Hand me that red book, will you? _Basic Potions_, third shelf."

Mimi stood on her tippy toes to reach the book on the third shelf. She firmly placed her hands on both sides of the enormous book and tilted it gently towards her. The weight of the book shifted her center of gravity and she toppled backwards landing under the book.

Merlon picked it up. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem," she replied, jumping to her feet. She smoothed out her dress.

Merlon put the book on his bookstand and began to read out loud, tracing along with his finger.

* * *

Count Bleck was aware he was dreaming, even before he realized what he was dreaming about.

In the dream, he was hovering over the book (hovering in the figurative sense, but also in the literal sense, as it was a dream.) Nawrocki was in the background with two of his Yardivars (the name was processing strangely in his dream.)

"They're all already dead," said Nawrocki.

"I know," said Count Bleck. He was aware that the rest of the world had ceased to exist outside his dimension. The book and table were gone, because now he was facing Nawrocki.

"Let's go take them out," said Nawrocki. He tugged on the arm of one of the Yardivars.

Dimentio was standing next to Nawrocki. He said, "Yes, let's. Send them out and we'll be done with them."

"We've got to get rid of all of these things now that they're useless."

"They're not useless," said Count Bleck. "You need them to take over the world."

"World's gone," said Nawrocki.

"I know," said Count Bleck.

"So we need to throw these guys out."

"Oh."

Dimentio opened the Dark Prognosticus.

"Don't do that!" Count Bleck yelled. He jumped and tried to grab the book from Dimentio, and even though it felt like he should have succeeded, he missed. "Put it down!"

"It can't do any harm," said Dimentio. "You already sucked up the whole world."

Count Bleck looked out the window and saw the rest of the universe after Dimension Bleck, but as vast expanse of white. It dawned on him that he had caused the world to be sucked up into the void while he was using the book to stop Nawrocki.

"Even her?" he asked.

"Yep, even her," said Nawrocki.

"You're such a flipping fool," said Dimentio.

Count Bleck leaned out the window. Then all of a sudden he fell backwards and hit the floor with a thud, causing his body in real life to jerk and wake up.

He looked around. He'd fallen asleep on the table with his face in the book. Count Bleck chuckled nervously and closed the book. "That's the last time I fall asleep with my face in a tome of evil," he said.

Suddenly the door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. It bounced back and closed itself, only to be slammed open with a bit less force.

"Bleck!" Nawrocki hollered. "Get going!... It's time to start... sending out the first wave!"

"What?" Count Bleck checked his pocketwatch. If there were dawn in this dimension, it wouldn't crack for another hour or so. "Why so early?"

"Because we're under attack!"


	15. Attack

_This chapter is for Flowerstar, who wanted to see the beginning bit early on. It took a while to get something I could say, so if you're mad the whole chapter took so long, go ahead and blame her. XD Kidding, kidding, I'm responsible for my own dang self._

* * *

Nawrocki didn't bother with formalities like the meeting room. Instead he grabbed the Count in his vines and dragged him to the meeting room. Not that Count Bleck was putting up a struggle or anything, but Nawrocki was just not paying attention and wanted to move everyone as fast as possible. He tossed Count Bleck into the lab, which was surprisingly empty of Machine Mades, and slammed the door. Again, he slammed it so hard it bounced open again and he had to slam it gently. Count Bleck tried the knob and found it locked. He could teleport out of this room, but decided against it for the time being.

It was tranquil inside, but he could hear the turmoil outside. Smashes, crashes, and all sounds associated with a cataclysmic struggle hit the wall like a ton of cement and only the most powerful of the tumult made it though the castle walls and to Count Bleck's ears. Which is a fancy way of saying, it was quieter inside than you'd expect.

He looked around. He had forgotten how enormous the room was when it was empty., the ceiling towering above and the far wall a jog away. The factory equipment was gone. The monsters were gone. Everything from the past couple of days was gone, except for Nawrocki's tiny potion station, sans curtains.

He recognized the potion that Nawrocki had been mixing, sitting on a table against the wall near the door. He leaned over it and wafted the smell to his face. "Pepperment!" he said, surprised. He examined the color and texture and had to admit, in spite of everything that happened, that Nawrocki did make a good potion.

The door opened again and Nawrocki was shoving O'Chunks into the room. "A'right, yeh squishy li'l brute, I'm movin', I'm movin'…"

O'Chunks looked ill-prepared for battle. His face betrayed the fact that he had been sleeping. Also, he was still in his pajamas. Warrior, manly pajamas, but pajamas nonetheless. With a nightcap.

O'Chunks saw the Count grinning at the sight of him.

"Don't yeh look at meh that way," O'Chunks said defensively. "True, a good warrior'd sleep in 'is armor, so to be ready teh go inta battle at the sound o' the horn, but when they start getting' up there in years, well, it ain't so good fer the back, yeh know?"

Count Bleck nodded. "Oh, I know, I know," he said. "In fact, Count Bleck has found the need to remove his monocle before going to bed." He tapped his staff against the ground twice.

Nawrocki opened the door again and called out, "Où es-tu, Bleck? Oh, there you are. Écouter, je ne trouves pas Dimentio or M. L." (Listen, I can't find…)

"So what do you want me to do about it?" asked Count Bleck.

"Tu es leur Count Bleck, n'est pas?" (You are their Count Bleck, isn't it so?)

"Je ne suis pas une carte. Ou une boussole." (I'm not a map. Or a compass.)

"Aha! Tu es parle Français, après tout!" (You speak French after all!) Nawrocki crossed his arm-leaves triumphantly, as if he'd had some sort of victory.

O'Chunks looked back and forth between the two. "Eh? Whassis? Since when do you speak all fancy like this?"

"Since about September of '07," said Count Bleck somewhat sarcastically.

"Mais tu parles!" (But you _speak_!) Nawrocki shook his head. "Si tu veux. Send out the machine mades." (Whatever.)

"Non," said Count Bleck. "I'm not sending out a merciless army to attack someone for no good reason."

"Pardon?" Nawrocki crawled over to Count Bleck and raised his head so they were face to face. "Répétez, si vous plait?"

The Count would not be intimidated, but Nawrocki continued anyway.

"A good reason," said Nawrocki darkly, "is because I _order_ you. You can't break the spell. You agreed."

"Quand même," said Count Bleck. "Qu'est-ce que—"

The door was slammed open again, this time by Dimentio. He was standing there darkly, about four feet off the ground, glaring at Nawrocki.

"I don't think that door can take much more punishment," said Count Bleck.

"I believe I've been summoned," said Dimentio. "I brought the Green Thunder."

Mr. L bounded into the room, landed cleanly on his feet, and held his arms out to form a large L.

"Very nice, very nice," said Dimentio. "It took you that long to come up with something we've already seen you do?"

"Shut up," said Mr. L. "I'm going back to the basics."

"Be quiet, all of you!" Nawrocki hollered. "I've got a monster headache and I'm not in the mood. You are all still under my command, _richtig_? Well, I command you to go out there and stop the invasion."

A bolt of lightning struck the side of the building.

"What's _that_ got teh do with workin' in yer factory?" asked O'Chunks, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Huh?" Nawrocki raised an eyebrow at him.

"O'Chunks raises a garbled point," said Dimentio. "You see, I believe the exact words of your deal with our count was… dear me, what was it?"

Count Bleck recalled, "I will allow the women to go free if the men stay behind to work in my factory under my command. Clear cut and dry."

"Not that easy," said Nawrocki. "Magic isn't subject to the same confusion and narrow-mindedness that machines are. When you made a deal with me, you agreed to obey the _spirit_ of the law, not simply the letter."

"I ain't agreed to that!" O'Chunks bellowed, thumping his chest for dramatic effect.

"Then don't!" Nawrocki hollered back. He grinned, and then his face fell and he held his head. "Oooh… I don't have time for this…"

Another bolt of lighting hit the side of the castle, causing a large crack to split up the side.

"One more ought to do it," said Count Bleck.

Nawrocki was already crawling across the room to his closet. "Dispatch of the attackers," he said. "If you don't, then you had better die trying." With that, he slammed the door of the closet shut behind him.

"There's no two ways, is there?" said Count Bleck. "You either never, ever use the doors or else you slam and otherwise abuse them."

Another bolt of lighting hit the side of the building, and the battle outside poured in.

Every single Machine Made that the men had worked on seemed to be involved in the melee. They were hurling spears and bits and stones into the thick of it. A few of them were even using magic spells. From the inside, fireballs, lighting bolts, koopa shells, POW block reverb, snowballs, and even rubees were flying out.

"It's the women!" Mr. L cried triumphantly. "The women have come to help us!"

"Thank you, Mr. L, for pointing out something every one else has figured out," said Dimentio. He pulled up an energy ball and flung it into the crowd.

"Ow! Mimimimimimimi! Watch it!"

Mimi, in her giant Daddy-Long-Legs form, sprung out of the battle and landed on the floor in the laboratory. "Here we come to save the day!"

BZZOOORT!

Nastasia pushed her way out of the throng of Yaridoviches, the tinny cries of "Hail, Bleck!" following behind her. "Reporting for duty, Count," said Nastasia. She looked around, but did not see him.

"This ain't good," said Mr. L. "You see, we're under orders to kill the attackers or die trying."

"Orders you can't break," said Nastasia. "That's what we were afraid of."

"I for one have no qualms," said Dimentio, holding up an energy ball. "Which one of you would like to go first?"

Mimi hurled a rubee that hit Dimentio square in the forehead.

"Touchy, touchy," he murmured. He disappeared.

The robots were already filling the room, but keeping their distance from the girls. They had registered them as a Threat Level 1 and were conferring with each other as to the proper advance to make.

"Wait," said Mr. L. "Where's Tippi?"

Nastasia turned around. "Bringing up the rear, it would seem."

Meanwhile, Count Bleck was standing against the wall. "They've taken her from me," he said plainly.

Dimentio appeared next to the Count, his feet around eye level. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic, my Count."

"I'd rather die than hurt her.".

"You've proven that before." Dimentio waved his hand in front of Count Bleck's face.

Count Bleck looked up. "Yes, I see you."

"Use the power of the Prognosticus," said Dimentio. "Suck them all up."

"I thought you were on an anti-Prognosticus kick."

"I'm on an anti Bad-Things-Happening-To-Dimentio kick. I'm on an anti-Everything-and-Everybody-I-Will-Need-For-Future-Plans-Being-Destroyed-By-The-Power-Of-Pure-Chaos kick. I think this won't fill either of those qualifications, do you?"

"Well, as long as his majesty approves." Count Bleck spread out his arms and created a void. A small one, similar to the kind he used to use in battle, but it was frighteningly powerful. At once, the Machine Mades began flailing and trying to resist, but once you were trapped in the Void, you were done for.

Dimentio, grounding wire to the Count's newfound madness, quickly transported Nastasia and Mimi to the safety of Dimension D.

Count Bleck held his arms out wide. Mr. L and O'Chunks were a safe distance from the small void, but they both backed up even farther, looking on his horror.

It was then that Tippi came in through the door at last. "I'm back, Blumiere!" she cried out joyfully. Two feet into the room, she was sucked into it as well.

Count Bleck dropped his arms and right away the void began to close. "Timpani!" he screamed as he flew across the room. He grabbed her in his arms and held out his staff, creating a magic barrier around himself.

"Blumiere," she whispered, "I thought I would never see one of those again."

"I—well, I thought so as well."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes. Yes, he has," said Dimentio from the far wall.

She sighed.

"When I'm not with you, I don't think straight," he said softly.

She sighed. "Blumiere, what am I going to do with you?"

"Just stay with me."

And we'll take a break on that note, because things are about to get a whole lot worse before they get any better.


	16. Fight For Your Life

Tippi and Count Bleck were celebrating their reunion with a lovers quarrel.

"Let me see if I understand this," she said, "Before you continue to explain yourself. It was _your_ idea to bargain with Nawrocki to set me free."

"That's right."

"After I was gone, you went completely out of your mind from the separation between us so much that you can't tell right from wrong, is that it?"

"More or less."

"Blumiere, I think there's something fundamentally wrong with you."

"Perhaps we'll look into it."

"I leave you for just a few days and you're already whipping out that book!" she stormed, suddenly very angry. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it?"

"Timpani, there's no denying that book has answers!"

"That book asked the questions in the first place, if it has answers! After this is over I want you to get _rid_ of it."

"I can't do that- someone's got to watch it."

"Someone who isn't driven to use it at the drop of a hat!"

"It was hardly the drop of a hat! I had to get you back!"

"You know I would have come back!"

"But I _didn't_! Not safely, anyway."

"You sent me _away!_"

"Because I couldn't watch you suffer!"

"So it's better if I suffer somewhere else?"

Dimentio was watching them argue back and forth, as if watching a match of Mario Tennis. Then he turned around and pulled the rest of the minions together, away from the wall and out of Dimension D. Soon Nastasia, O'Chunks, Mimi, and Mr. L were gathered with him.

Nastasia cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Count, but we have more pressing matters to attend to," she said. "Yeah, so there's more Machine Mades outside. They're confused but they're not out."

"Yeah," said Mimi, "but Mr. Merlon told us how to get rid of 'em. See, Nawrocki stocked 'em to run on his potions instead of, like, gears and junk."

"Right," said Count Bleck. "Dimentio, can you lead to take care of that?"

"Magical beings, I know more about than machines." He disappeared.

Count Bleck nodded. "Now that we know he's using magic, we should be on equal footing. No one has the upper hand."

Mr. L stepped forward. "Uh, with your permission, Count, I think Brobot might still be useful in stomping them."

"He doesn't need my permission to be useful," said Count Bleck, "but if you're asking for my permission to use him, then go ahead."

Mr. L pumped his fist victoriously and then scurried off.

Count Bleck motioned to the others to follow him. They followed on the ground, while he lifted himself into the air, to the top of the hole blown in the wall. He had a good view of the outside.

A large number of Yaridovices were there, as well as the bow-shooting ones. Count Bleck recognized the arrows as the ones brought back from the woods. Nawrocki wasn't doing this thing partway- he'd located the missing tribe of arrows in his quest for information about the old Smithy Gang. Count Bleck hadn't made that connection until recently. If he had, would it have made a difference? Probably not; he still wouldn't have seen Nawrocki for what he was until it was too late.

Even with the reduced numbers of Machine Mades, it was still a tough battle. They were attacking with all the fierceness and velocity they'd displayed in the village, but these monsters were stronger. The home advantage was coming in handy, true. His minions knew where all the hiding spots and pitfalls were (what little there were to be found in a barren landscape) and their stock of items was coming in handy. But this was an entire factory of monsters—scratch that, most of a factory of monsters, given that he'd just sucked up a floors worth into oblivion.

Then he spotted Merlon in the distance, lobbing spells into the fray. He hit randomly, and Count Bleck noticed that no matter who or what the spells hit, they and the backlash hurt only the Machine Mades. He nodded to himself, and then reappeared next to Merlon.

"You must teach me that maneuver sometime," he said.

Merlon jumped. "Count Bleck!" he said. "I didn't hear you come up."

Count Bleck put his face in his hands. "I've become one of them," he sighed.

"Pardon?"

"I wasn't aware you were coming," said Count Bleck.

"I've come to help your minions," said Merlon. "The women came to me for help, and I've given them what they need to fight."

"Which is?"

"All they need to do is fight. I'm here because they're strong, but not strong enough for me to just turn them out with nothing more than a scrap of information and my blessings."

Count Bleck shook his head. "I can't believe you would come here."

"Blumiere," he said, "think about this: If I, the man who once lead the crusade against you and your deeds is now willingly fighting on the same side, with no prior encouragement even from your minions, does that not say anything about your redemption?"

"I've done something awful again."

Merlon paused to lob another spell and take out a few Yaridoviches who were surrounding Mimi, fighting in her spider-form.

She waved one of her spindly legs. "Thanks!" she called. "Mimimimimimimimimimi!"

"If you write yourself off every time you do something bad, you'll never be good enough for yourself," said Merlon. "You need to be aware of yourself. For starters, listen to your wife."

"No, I mean, I did some very, very awful."

"No, you didn't," said Merlon. "You didn't do anything awful because you didn't _want_ to do anything awful. Nothing in and of itself is---" he paused to cast a spell that cleared out several Machine Mades surrounding them. "Excuse me. Nothing in and of itself is awful."

"We're not winning, are we?"

"No," said Merlon. "These monsters are too strong."

Count Bleck nodded. Then he spread his arms, and opened up the sky again.

"Focus your heart," said Merlon. "The magic comes from there."

This time, he began to pull up the Machine Mades, flailing in terror. His minions, though trembling, remained firmly planted on the floor.

"Like that," said Merlon.

"Thank you for showing me."

Merlon nodded. "The dark secrets of the book have affected you deeply, more than you know. You can't un-read it, but you must _always_ be in control of yourself."

Suddenly, Count Bleck found himself back in Nawrocki's empty factory room. He looked around and saw that the rest of his minions were there, too, just as confused as he was.

Nawrocki was standing near the closet, clapping his leaves quickly. "Good job, really, _bon travail_. You've broken your agreement."

"Wait," said Mr. L, "I thought you said we'd die if that happened."

"I was hoping," said Nawrocki, "but it seems someone's magic is stronger than mine and is protecting you. Which is a pain in the tail." He slowly opened the closet door, _creeeaaak_, as he spoke. "So… do you want to know what I've been doing in this closet the whole time?

"See, the Smithy Gang isn't the only thing I admire. As a plant, I do admire the more prominent members of my kingdom, _Plantae_. And, if you'll recall your history lessons, there was more than one monster in the Smithy Gang's heyday."

"Plantae," said Count Bleck to himself.

"Monster plants?" asked Nastasia. "Are you thinking—"

"What you're thinking."

"Smilax."

"What's a Smilax?" asked Mimi.

"Smilax is a semisentient multi-headed piranha plant indigenous to Bean Valley," said Tippi.

The wall with the closet door exploded outwards. Count Bleck shielded those around him from the wall shrapnel. The dust cleared quickly, and suddenly they found themselves looking up at a three-story piranha plant with an enormous boat of a head and many, many other smaller heads growing out of thorny vines.

"That," said Tippi. "That is a Smilax."

Nawrocki indicated Smilax. "I've been tending him in there, in a sort of dimensional space-warp so he'd have enough room. I figured he'd be a good mascot in my crusade against the world."

Smilax gnashed his teeth once. He was drooling with anticipation.

Count Bleck looked up at the biggest head. As his head traced upwards, his spirits sank down, down, into the dungeon beneath him.

His minions flanked him by the sides, standing firm in their resolution, like soldiers on review.

"Your order, Count," said Nastasia.

Count Bleck nodded. "Very well, then. On the defensive."

The melee started.

Smilax swiped one vine across the ground. The piranha plant heads growing from it snapped and bit as it made its way across the room. The minions jumped it like a rope, but on the rebound they were knocked down, save for Dimentio who was hanging in the air as usual.

"Scatter!" Count Bleck commanded, and they complied.

"Nastasia, hypnotize it!" he commanded.

"I'm trying, sir," said Nastasia. "Its mind isn't developed enough to register loyalty."

"That's why I'm back here!" Nawrocki called from behind the rubble.

Smilax gnashed and lunged for O'Chunks, who grabbed the vine and twisted it around until it snapped off.

"Aye, it may look lush an' green, but it be as brittle as the stubble o' a newborn beard," he observed sagely.

Nawrocki's head popped up from behind the wall. "That's not how it should be."

Mimi shot rubees at Smilax's big head. It growled and turned on her.

"Eep!" She skittered back until she bumped into the wall.

Mr. L struck a pose and jumped onto one of the piranha plant's heads, springing onto two more until he lost his steam and missed.

Count Bleck suddenly felt in synch with the situation and began barking orders. "Mimi! Move right! Dimentio, back up Mr. L! If he won't stop striking poses someone needs to cover him! O'Chunks! Opening on your left!"

Smilax swept a thorny vine across the floor again, all the way up to the wall. Count Bleck pulled himself upwards, but not quickly enough. His waistcoat snagged on a thorn, tearing deeper than the fabric, and pulling him along for several feet before what was caught gave way.

The vine continued on, under the table against the wall. The table that held the cauldron containing Timpani's potion. Smilax's vine cracked the legs and flung the table sideways, and the potion into the air.

"Somebody grab that potion!"

* * *

_If you haven't voted yet, this is your last chance to do so. The last chapters will be up by Sunday. The poll is in my profile. Good luck!_


	17. The Defeat

_Let me try and explain._

_Merlon from Super Paper Mario is based off of Merlon from Paper Mario, who in turn was based off the Shamen from Super Mario RPG, who could perform awesome magic if they were given the chance. That is why I figured Merlon could use magic. Although I don't know if that line really exists, I can't imagine it not existing._

_Anyway, back to the action._

* * *

"_Somebody grab that potion!"_

Count Bleck dived. Tippi dived, although there was no way she could save it. It was O'Chunks, however, who was able to fling himself across the space between him and the wall, on the ground, and grab it in his burly hand.

The whole room seemed to pause to breathe a sigh of relief.

Count Bleck warped the potion to another dimension of his, where he felt it would be undisturbed. He looked up at Tippi and gave a weak smile, holding his torn waistcoat closed over his cut.

"I thought for sure…" she whispered.

"Timpani, go block what Nawrocki's doing," ordered Count Bleck.

Tippi dodged past Smilax's thrashing vines to Nawrocki, at the base of Smilax coming out of a warp pipe. He was pouring a pot of water into the opening of the pipe and frowning.

"It shouldn't be that brittle," he said to Tippi without looking up. "So I'm pouring some fresh mineral water in here. Go tell you're nutty hubby that."

Tippi rammed into the back of his head and flew away.

Nawrocki glared at her, rubbing the back of his head.

Tippi reported back to the Count, still dodging the melee going on around Smilax. "He's giving it mineral water," she said breathlessly.

Count Bleck thought for a moment. "I know what that means," he said. "It's a plant, too, so it shouldn't be as powerful as it could be, if I was right about Nawrocki, although if it's at it's maximum strength than I was wrong about—"

"_Put your foolish head down if you wish to keep it_!" Dimentio hollered from above, spitting out all of those words in fewer than two seconds and still managing to annunciate.

Count Bleck felt a sting on the side of his head. He fell to the ground, otherwise unharmed. Above him, a fireball flew through the empty space that his head had been thinking in only moments ago. Count Bleck straightened his hat and looked for Tippi, who was well out of harms way.

Dimentio was hovering in the air, arms crossed, glaring down at Count Bleck. "Pardon me, were you looking to become Our Headless Leader? Because if you are, I would like to reserve the pleasure of removing it for myself."

Meanwhile Smilax snarled, angry at loosing its target. He lifted a mighty thorny vine and brought it down from above onto Dimentio's head, driving him into the ground with all the power of a dodgeball hurled by the school bully on fitness test day, as Dimentio himself would have put it were he not the target.

"Dimentio!"

Count Bleck rushed to his side, in the cracked ground where the jester lay. He knelt down, surveying the damage with a grim frown. It looked pretty unfortunate.

"You… are such… a fool, Count."

Count Bleck shook his head sadly.

Smilax spat out some petal dust, a nasty substance that turned you into a mushroom if you touched it. Count Bleck held his cloak out and stood back, along with the other minions, so that they were out of range. Mimi, who was immune to shapeshifting damage, took the opportunity to sneak up behind Smilax and kick him really hard.

"I'VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THIS."

Merlon had finally caught up with them, having figured out where they all went. He held out his hands and shouted something in the language of the Ancients. Whatever it meant then, it meant now, "I'm hurling a giant fireball at you to burn you to a crisp, Smilax," because that's what he did. Smilax caught fire, and he went up fast.

Count Bleck lowered his cape slowly, watching the plant burn. It looked around wildly, aware that it was in danger but incapable of understanding how to save itself.

Finally it lost its strength and collapsed on the floor, and slowly faded away as all enemies seem to do when they die.

"Thank you," said Count Bleck.

Merlon nodded once.

Nawrocki limped out into the middle of a room. "What an utter disappointment," he said thoughtfully. "Seriously. What an utter stinking disappointment. If I had realized what had been happening to me, I would have realized what happened to Smilax." He looked up. "My powers are almost gone, as you can plainly see."

O'Chunks, Brobot, Mimi, and Nastasia were closing in on him slowly.

Count Bleck hovered above their heads and looked down at him. "You've been very, very bad, Nawrocki," he said.

"I know… I just thought maybe things were finally going to come up Nawrocki for a change." He gestured to the table. "Um… that potion… how about I just write it off as a business gift and we'll call it even?"

Count Bleck stared Nawrocki down.

"No dice, huh?" He looked around. "Why are you all staring at me like that?"

"Because we feel bad for you," said Tippi. "You're a bad person, but I think you're just sad. Maybe a little lonely."

"That's dumb," said Nawrocki.

"I think you don't get hugged enough."

"I swear, if you try and hug me I'll cut you."

"Which one of us is standing victorious now, eh?"

Nawrocki shook his head. "Fine. I submit. I'll just go along my way."

Those circling him closed the gaps around him, so that he was surrounded.

"Yeah," said Nastasia. "See, it would be a bad idea for us to just let you go, 'K? So instead we're gonna make sure this is finished."

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?" Nawrocki looked from one face to another.

"No," said Nastasia, "but we won't let you leave here until we can be sure you'll never hurt anyone again."

Nawrocki reached behind him, into the folds of his leaves, and pulled out a knife. "I may not be able to find my way outta here, but I'm outta here!"

He thrust the knife forward, not onto anyone in particular, but into the air itself, cutting a deep rip into the fabric of dimensional space and leaving a large hole, which he leapt through.

"Do we go after him?" asked Mimi.

"What do _you_ think? Count Bleck snapped in haste."

"No!" Merlon said. "That's a tear in the fabric of space- there's no telling what would happen if you jumped into it all willy-nilly."

"Ah, ha ha ha ha ha ha."

They all looked upwards to see Dimentio hanging in the air, smiling lightly. "It would seem that the battle, then, is not at all done. The curtain has fallen, but it is only the intermission. Shall we retrieve our snacks in the lobby before we engage the monstrous plantman in a vicious third act, oh Count?"

"I thought you were dead," said Count Bleck.

"No such luck," Dimentio replied.

Mimi snapped her fingers. "The mushroom you took from me- the one that I found in the woods!"

"You're a clever girl." Dimentio pinched up his face in a nasty grin towards Mimi. "Yes, even the great Dimentio needs backup every now and again. But, dear Count Bleck, do _you_ have any backup, as it were?"

Count Bleck looked up at Dimentio, puzzled. Dimentio gestured down, and Count Bleck looked for the first time at his waistcoat, where he'd been torn by the thorns. It was covered in his blood.

"Blumiere!" cried Tippi. "It looks awful!"

Looking at all of that made Count Bleck feel so ill, he took a step backwards to try to get away from it. "It looks worse than it is," he muttered. He staggered sideways, and Nastasia held him steady.

"Did you just now realize it, Count?"

"No… I've just been preoccupied."

Then, all of the- Count Bleck, Tippi, Merlon, O'Chunks, Mimi, Nastasia, Dimentio, Mr. L- decided then and there that it was finished. Over and done. There were piles of scrap machinery hidden somewhere in the castle, a battle-scarred atrium with half a wall missing, an unfinished potion in a pocket dimension somewhere in space, and their beloved count was wounded. That's why they decided not to follow Nawrocki. For the time being, they would remain in Dimension Bleck.


	18. Redemption

A cold wind blew through the Underwhere. Still, the Shaydes didn't notice it. None of them could even remember a time when they had noticed it, even those who had just arrived. They had been here for eternity, and they would remain there for eternity. Time would never have meaning again.

Count Bleck was strolling through the plaza, head high, staff to his side. He looked over the heads of the Shaydes, eyes fixed on his destination. He was the only one in the Underwhere who even had a destination. Destinations were another one of those things that loose their meaning.

"Hey!" a particular Shayde called out, seeing him. "It's Mr. Funny! Your game finally end this time, eh?"

Count Bleck didn't answer. "I'm not funny," he told the Shayde. "But if it's the only thing that makes you feel better in this Nimforsaken place, then go ahead and laugh."

"Okay." The Shayde cleared his throat. Count Bleck watched him, half impatient, half amused. The Shayde lost his nerve. "Well, I can't do it while you're lookin' at me…"

"Ah. Terribly sorry." Count Bleck turned around and went off.

Another Shayde turned to the one who had spoken to Count Bleck. "So, is his game over, or what?"

The first Shayde shrugged.

* * *

"Blumiere!" Queen Jaydes spotted him the moment he stepped up the stairs to her palace. "I wasn't expecting you—you know better than to take me by surprise!"

Count Bleck weaved his way through the D-Men, scrambling here and there, trying their hardest to get an eternity's worth of work done. He approached Jaydes, who was on her phone.

"I can't believe it! Did we _not_ just have this discussion? I certainly hope she's grounded. If she's not, I swear I—With _who_? And you _believed_ her? Grams, she's a _teenager_. Of _course_ she lied to you. And you're not letting her keep the skirt, are you?"

She pulled the phone away from her ear. "He hung up on me." She put it in her pocket. "Family crisis," she said. "You'll understand when you have kids."

Count Bleck shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever have kids. After all, I already have minions."

"I don't think that's exactly the same thing…"

Count Bleck's cell phone SP rang. He excused himself from the conversation and answered it.

"Count Bleck!" Mimi cried from the other end of the phone. "Dimentio's touching me!"

"I am not touching her," Dimentio said calmly, speaking into the phone from behind her.

"He's touching me!"

"I most certainly am not touching her."

"He's totally touching me!"

"I must emphasize that I am _not,_ in fact, touching her."

"Mimi," said Count Bleck. "If you stop throwing tantrums, then he'll stop. Dimentio, stay out of Mimi's personal space." And he hung up.

"Never mind," said Jaydes. "All right, tell me. You're game's not really over. So what are you doing here?"

Count Bleck shrugged.

"Although you did come pretty close," she added with a grin.

"You know about that?"

"I know everything," she replied. She gestured to the mountains of files and papers and drawers. "It's all here, somewhere."

"Then you must know about all the awful things I've done."

She groaned. "Is _that_ what this is about? Look, I can't tell you whether or not you'll find your redemption, but I _can_ tell you that it's not worth worrying over. Just look at Dimentio. He doesn't worry about it."

"You've met him?"

"Before the 1-up shroom takes effect, a person has to meet with me," she replied. "It's an old tradition."

"I didn't know that." Count Bleck nodded thoughtfully. Then, suddenly, it dawned on him. "Wait, Dimentio's trying to attain redemption?"

"I didn't say that," said Jaydes. "I'm not allowed to say that."

"Seriously. You must tell me."

She zipped her lips.

"What about Nawrocki? Is he down here?"

"No. Pity, too. He puts a lot of work on us, when he's allowed to run free up there. I think he's somewhere on Yoshi's Island, soaking up the sun and getting better. Now, look, I love to have a social call, but I just don't have the time. Luvbi's going to be here for the weekend and I've got to get that pile of paperwork out of the way so she'll have a place to sleep."

Count Bleck nodded. "Well, good luck with that."

"Yeah, thanks. And hey," she added, "Don't worry. It's not good for you. Keep it up and you'll end up here sooner than you like."

"No offence intended, but isn't it always sooner than you'd like?"

They both shared a laugh.

* * *

Meanwhile, the minions were restoring Castle Bleck to its former glory. There was a wall to be patched, factory equipment stashed (it turned out that Nawrock had dismantled his equipment in order to move it, and had left it all over the place) and machine corpses to be dragged to the curb for Interdimensional Pickup, assuming it existed. And someone had to patch the hole in time and space that Nawrocki made upon his exit.

Before he'd left, Merlon had given the potion a once-over. "I don't know too much about potions when it come to actually mixing them," he'd admitted, "but I'm certain one of my relatives does. I'll send it off and see if we can't get it finished." So he'd left with it tucked under his arm right before Count Bleck returned.

Count Bleck was moving slower than ever. It wasn't just that he was injured. There was something heavy about him, something sad and troubled on top of his usual depressed distress. When he walked into the lab, he brought a heaviness with him that seemed to settle on everybody.

"Good afternoon, Count." Nastasia was at the doorway to greet him. "Yeah, so, production is way ahead of schedule on the rebuilding of the outer wall, and we've managed to locate most of the factory surplus, but no word on when the guy is coming in to fix the hole in space."

Count Bleck waved her off. "Where's Timpani?" he asked.

"Right here, Blumiere!" She fluttered up to him. "You were right! Merlon's going to find someone to finish the potion, and then everything will be the way we wanted it to be!"

His face brightened.

Seeing his happiness, she continued. "It's so wonderful! I'm so glad we did this. Despite everything, we've come out ahead!"

Count Bleck took her in his arms. "I agree," he said. "There's hope for the future, isn't there?"

She giggled. "Always."

Nastasia backed away. She hadn't intended on a lovey-dovey show. As she was backing, she backed right into O'Chunks.

"Oh, pardon me!" she said quickly.

"Ah, 'scuse me, miss, I didn't mean teh—"

"Quite all right, I wasn't looking where I was—"

"Got a block o' blocks 'ere, can't see over 'em—"

"And I was just..."

They both stopped.

"Listen, O'Chunks," she said, "I know that you like me, and I like you, too. I just don't think there's anything more to it than that."

"Eh? What'r yeh sayin'?"

She sighed. "I'm saying, I don't think we should see each other again. Not informally, that is."

"Saw it comin'." He heaved a warrior's sigh. "Well, thanks fer tryin', Nassy."

She straightened her glasses. "Anytime. Well—no, it's just an expression."

Dimentio, meanwhile, was not working at all. He was sitting on a pile of rubble, knees hugged to his chest, grinning to himself. Something inside him was warm, a feeling he was quite unused to. It was almost pleasant. Almost.

When Mimi passed he waved her down.

"My dear Mimi," he said. "How long have we known each other?"

"I-uh-oh. A while?"

Facepalm. "I'm being serious."

"You're always serious."

"Tell me, do you know why the rest of you are insufferably happy, and Nawrocki seemed not to be so?"

"'Cause he didn't have any friends," she answered.

"Exactly. I've been thinking this over for a long time, and I think I'd like to give it a try."

She snorted. "What?"

"I've decided, I want to be friends with the rest of you."

Mimi started laughing. "Get serious!"

"I told you, I am being serious."

She picked up a bag of rubble. "Dimentio, you don't care about anyone but yourself."

"That's why I need lessons."

"Pardon?"

"Friendship lessons."

"Friendship's not really something you can teach."

Dimentio shrugged. "Fine." He held his finger out in front of her face.

"Quit it."

"Quit what?"

"Quit touching me."

"I am not touching you."

"All right!" She slapped his hand away. "I guess if you want to, I'll give it a try. But don't be mean to me! That's your first lesson."

"One step at a time."

Suddenly, Mr. L ran into the room from the hole in the wall, waving his mailbox SP. "Hey, guys!" he called out. "My bro just tipped me off! There's a mission for us!"

Count Bleck looked up from what he was doing with Tippi. "A mission? Everyone! To the meeting room! I'd like details on this mission!"

Who cares about redemption? There's work to be done!


End file.
